


The Water's Fine

by nightmares06, PL1



Series: Brothers Lost [2]
Category: Supernatural, The Borrowers - All Media Types
Genre: Attack, Borrower Sam, Borrowers - Freeform, Brothers, Case Fic, F/M, G/T, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Salt, TINY - Freeform, Water, borrower dean, giant, giant tiny - Freeform, vengeful spirit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmares06/pseuds/nightmares06, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PL1/pseuds/PL1
Summary: Saving people, hunting things. Sam and Dean grew up on those words and now, over a decade after being cursed to live out their lives at a fraction of their height, Jacob Andris will help them live up to their destiny.





	1. Combat Lessons

Another day, another motel, another job hunt.  
  
Except it wasn't really the same routine Jacob had grown used to over the last year. Right after graduating high school, he'd gone into the workforce, taking odd jobs and temporary labor positions in various places in the Midwest. Warehouses, farms, and shipping companies were all good options for quick work.  
  
He was a tall kid, and strong, so those jobs usually boiled down to lifting heavy things from point A to point B. But Jacob didn't mind the tough work or the long hours. They paid well and supported his drift from motel to motel in one unending road trip.  
  
He'd driven his reliable Mercury Cougar back and forth from job to job, putting hundreds of miles behind him. He was used to the road, and to traveling around. He was closely familiar with the sometimes-tedious search between jobs, and he was used to being tired at the end of a long day of driving.  
  
Now, Jacob was driving a different car, and he wasn't hunting for work in the classified ads, and he wasn't on his own.  
  
A stop in Haven, Kansas between jobs had changed everything. Now, Jacob was traveling with Sam and Dean Winchester, curse victims that had been reduced to almost a twentieth of their original sizes. He was driving Dean's old 1967 Chevy Impala that he'd restored with Dean's instruction.  
  
Instead of hunting temporary, seasonal jobs, now Jacob's year-round job was to hunt monsters.  
  
His life got pretty weird thanks to that stop at _Trails West._  
  
Bobby Singer, an old friend of the brothers, had pointed the three of them towards a case in Garvin, Oklahoma. It was supposed to be an easy one, he said, probably a 'routine salt and burn.’ Which was hunter-talk for 'Jacob would have to dig up a corpse and burn it so its ghost would stop drowning people.'  
  
He tried not to think too hard about that part until they came to it.  
  
On the way, the trio had opted to stop at a motel and save the last leg of the trip for the morning. Sam and Dean weren't used to the long haul yet, and there was no reason to stay cooped up for the full 12 hour drive. Even if the brothers were raring to go when they arrived, Jacob would be exhausted after a long trip like that.  
  
Dean wanted to show off some combat moves, anyway.  
  
Jacob sat at the table in their room, resting his chin on his crossed arms. He tried to keep himself closer to their level to avoid looming, though it was too late to get rid of the nickname _Godzilla._  
  
In front of him, two men around four inches tall were demonstrating hand-to-hand combat training that they had learned way back before they were cursed. Jacob paid rapt attention, trying not to miss a single detail of the dextrous movements made by tiny limbs.  
  
“C’mon, Sammy,” Dean goaded, his soft, gruff voice reaching Jacob's alert ears. “Afraid you’re gonna get tossed again?”  
  
Sam gave him a glare in return. His hands were held out to the side, near invisible fingers twitching with anticipation as he prepared to charge. They were just demonstrating moves, but after years of testing each other and pushing each other’s limits, a sparring session like this could stray into sibling rivalry.  
  
The lessons themselves had all been passed down by Dean. Sam had been too young when they were cursed to know any more than the basics, but his older brother had already mastered what he could of John’s lessons. Hand-to-hand combat, archery, guns, even building his own weapons and repairing the guns all fit neatly on Dean’s list of skills. Though a lot of that had gone to waste for fourteen years in the motel, Dean still remembered each and every lesson.  
  
He’d taught Sam as soon as he could after their curse. Aside from Walt and Mallory, they were alone in the world. John couldn’t protect them anymore, so Dean decided that _he_ would, and Sam would need to learn whatever self-defense he could. They might be too small for most of the methods to work on humans, but at the very least it would keep them both tone and in shape.   
  
Now, they were passing the knowledge along once more, to a _human,_ of all people.  
  
Knife lessons had consumed most of their time growing up, but today Dean wanted to show Jacob how to take advantage of his biggest asset. If he lost his gun or his knife, Jacob would still have a huge advantage: his size. The kid was 6’5” and had muscle built up from years of working out and helping in warehouses. Hell, his arms were thicker than Sam or Dean were tall, easily, and his grip was solid. That alone could be enough to save his life one day if he got into trouble. Not every supernatural threat could be grappled, but Jacob would be ready for the ones that could.  
  
Sam charged, and this time Dean used his own smaller size to his advantage. Being the eldest, it smarted to have ended up the smaller of the two brothers, but it also meant he could dodge a lot faster than his bulky brother.  
  
Considering that the difference in size between them was a fifth of an inch, it didn’t _sound_ like much, but when one stood 4 inches tall and the other stood 3.8 inches tall, it mattered a lot more.  
  
Dean dodged to the side, letting Sam blow past him. At the same time, he lashed out with a foot, catching Sam’s arm with his hand and sending him to the ground. The end result was Dean holding Sam pinned to the ground, smirking at the annoyed hazel eyes below.  
  
Jacob squinted at the pair of them, trying to catch up to what he'd just seen. They might not be able to run fast enough to outrun a sweep of his hands, but that didn't mean they weren't nimble on their feet and in their movements. If Dean stood at a normal height, he wouldn't be a person Jacob ever wanted to mess with. But with hands that didn't even cover his fingertips, Jacob had to watch closely to catch everything that Dean did.  
  
He blinked a few times and tilted his head for a different angle. Jacob knew how to throw a punch and guard from one. That was the extent of the fighting skill he had, and even that wasn't very intense. He'd participated in boxing in school, nothing serious. Nothing like fighting monsters or scraping by to survive at a size like Sam and Dean's.  
  
After a pause, he finally admitted, "I think I'd be more likely to end up like Sam, here." Jacob, with all his size, was positive he didn't have the dexterity to dodge like Dean. Sidestepping a hit was one thing, but actually toppling someone? Jacob's bulk was better suited to just trying to push an opponent over without all the fancy footwork.  
  
Dean released his choke hold on Sam, pushing himself off of the table top. He held a hand out, helping up his little brother before he turned to Jacob. “You might be more suited to takedowns like Sammy,” he agreed. “But if you end up fighting somethin’ like a werewolf, you’ll want to keep those teeth as far away from you as you can, otherwise _you_ might end up wearin’ the teeth during the next full moon.”  
  
He motioned at Sam and continued his patient explanation. The normally easy-to-rile hunter turned into patience itself when it came to lessons, for Jacob and Sam both. It was reminiscent of the times he’d be explaining the inner workings of the Impala, back when Jacob had been helping with the repairs. “If you can, grab your opponent's legs when you hit them. That way, you knock their balance off, and your upper body motion is enough to topple them over. When you both land, you’ll have the upper hand in the fight because you’ll be on top.”  
  
Dean planted his boots on the ground, bracing himself. “Alright, Sam. One more time.”  
  
This time when Sam charged, Dean went through the exact same motions as the last time, keeping with the lesson. Learning from his previous mistake, Sam was prepared. The second he saw Dean shift his weight to his left leg, he angled his direction just the slightest amount. It kept him from overshooting, and when he swept a hand out, he managed to catch the back of Dean’s leg.  
  
Sam hit Dean like a linebacker and both brothers went down.  
  
Jacob let out a quiet breath, his eyebrows shooting up at the noise the pair made hitting the table. It wasn't the first time they'd fallen down decently hard, however, and this time he knew better than to worry. It was all part of the training. For being so small, they were hardy little guys.  
  
"Alright, go Sam!"  
  
He tried to imagine himself adjusting last second like Sam had. In a fight against a werewolf (which Jacob still hardly believed might _actually_ be in store for him), it would be the difference between life and death. He couldn't mess it up.  
  
Unlike Sam and Dean, however, Jacob hadn't grown up knowing how to do those kinds of things. He could only hope he'd pick up the skill quickly enough to be ready when it came time that he _needed_ it.  
  
If there was one advantage he could hang onto with greater ease, it was balance. Jacob was sturdy. He could hold his stance against a foe (or at least against another human). That might come in handy when he was trying to rob an opponent of _their_ balance. He logged the information away, regretting that he didn't really have a way to practice any of these maneuvers. He couldn't exactly have Sam charge at him, with the little guy only the length of a finger. All that would come of that would be Sam bouncing off him the way Dean had bounced off the inside of the coffee pot Jacob had trapped him in weeks ago.  
  
Sam grinned down at Dean, smug from his win and the praise from Jacob. “You’re getting soft,” he jabbed in a goodnatured way.  
  
Dean huffed at him. They both ignored the slight breeze that blew across their designated training area on the table. Jacob had to lean in close to be able to make out their movements, so it was unavoidable. He had to breathe, after all. The human’s warm brown eyes tracked their every movement, doing his best to learn the lessons Dean freely offered him, despite being unable to practice like they could. Even Sam, with the constant reminder of eyes on him in the form of a persistent prickle on his neck, wouldn’t complain. They didn’t want Jacob to agree to help them on hunts, only to get the kid in trouble. He’d need to learn every lesson they had.  
  
And, Sam had been surprised to find that the prickle on his neck wasn’t as omnipresent after spending time around Jacob.  
  
“Get off me,” Dean grumbled, hiding the prideful grin. Sam was a quick learner, and he worked diligently. If he was a human, he’d be a force to be reckoned with, but for now they’d settle for making Jacob into that force. It wasn’t the worst trade off.  
  
Sam helped him to his feet. Dean stretched once he was up again, feeling the strain in his back. He’d be feeling that last tackle in the morning, that was for sure.  
  
Their bags and jackets were left to the side of their training area, out of the way so neither brother landed on a hook. Their silver knives were tucked into the jackets as well after Dean deemed it too dangerous to use their actual knives in training. He’d have to find a substitute at some point. Knife lessons would be easier for Jacob, because he’d be able to try out the various stances without worrying about finding a partner to test out his moves on.  
  
Both brothers stood on the table in their t-shirts Mallory had made for them. Sam's was a simple grey and Dean's was black to help him blend into the shadows.  
  
“Any questions?” Dean asked Jacob while Sam stretched out his arms on the side.  
  
Jacob thought over the demonstrations he'd just witnessed. He got the basic gist of most of them, even if some of the finer points were lost on him. He was almost positive that he'd never be able to see their subtle shifting of weight from foot to foot, or pinpoint the weakest spot in their balance. He couldn’t look closely enough without getting too close for anyone’s comfort. There were some times he thought a magnifying glass might not be able to show him the detail he’d need to imitate the moves.  
  
But he'd seen enough that he would be able to follow it easier at the next inevitable training session. After spending a few weeks working with Dean to fix the Impala, Jacob knew he was nothing if not thorough. There would be repetitions of these lessons.  
  
He hummed thoughtfully, even that quiet noise feeling so loud when talking to them. "Nope. I'm ready. Come at me," he quipped with a grin.  
  
Dean arched a dubious eyebrow at Jacob, uncertain if the human was teasing them about their size. “What, just because you’ve got a few pounds on me, you think you can take me?” he snarked right back, standing his ground stubbornly. “I’ll have you know I had a plan when you stuck me in that coffee pot. I’d’ve gotten out, and then you’d be in trouble.”  
  
Sam hid a grin. “Was your plan to get a hot bath in coffee?” he shot at Dean, nudging him with an elbow to defuse the rising tension before it had time to solidify. “I know you’ve missed having your caffeine in the morning, but that’s pushing it to the extreme.”  
  
Jacob winced at that mental image. He wasn't proud of the way he'd first introduced himself to Dean. He'd trapped the small man in a coffee pot to keep him from dashing around and potentially hurting himself, and even that hadn't worked. Dean had just changed tactics and charged at the glass out of stubborn desperation.  
  
Jacob had never even considered that the coffee pot being _filled_ with him in it could be a concern for Dean at the time. It was a stupid thing to miss. After all, it was what the coffee pot was _for,_ and Dean standing straight up didn’t reach the line that marked a full pot of coffee. As valiant as the little guy was, he wouldn’t have stood a chance.  
  
It was a wonder they'd actually given Jacob another chance after a scare like that. He counted himself lucky that he had the opportunity to make up for it.  
  
He bit back another apology. He'd been told already that he was forgiven. Hell, Dean let him drive the _Impala_ , his prized car, after all that. He'd made a lot of progress since then, and he was glad for it. It made it easier to recognize that he might have riled Dean up with his joking comment, when he really hadn't meant anything by it.  
  
"Easy, there, dude. I do wish I could practice these badass moves, but in the meantime you'll just have to keep showing me how it's done and maybe I'll get 'em memorized." He offered a faint smile, hopefully placating Dean before he got hotheaded enough to think of a way to retaliate. Jacob knew quite well that though the man was small, it had no effect on his ingenuity.  
  
Dean bristled at the soothing words, but did what he could to push it aside. Jacob clearly didn’t mean anything by it, and was doing his best to get used to their strange situation just like they all were.  
  
It was unique, after all.   
  
Dean had never heard of anyone his size even being _around_ humans, and here they were, out in the open a good portion of the day. Even going so far as to trust Jacob enough to hide them from sight in a pocket or a hood. A move like that would be viewed as foolhardy at best and suicidal at worst by anyone else their size. It gave the human complete control over their lives.  
  
Not once had Jacob let them down.  
  
“Don’t you forget it,” Dean said, Jacob’s demure reply taking some of the wind from his sails. At the very least, he had an idea of how Jacob could practice his moves. “We’ll have to see if Bobby’s up for a few rounds of sparring sometime so you can see what you’ve learned. You just can’t go _too_ hard on him.” Bobby might be a hunter, but Jacob was naturally big, and had a good few inches and more than a few pounds on the older hunter. Add that to the fact that Jacob had specialized in what summed up as ‘lift heavy objects’ in his jobs, and he wasn’t a person to be taken lightly, trained or untrained.  
  
Jacob nodded, serious this time. Even with superior size and mass on his side, he foresaw himself getting his ass handed to him if he fought Bobby, a more experienced fighter, but he didn't point that out. Dean probably knew already. He might secretly be looking forward to it a little.  
  
Jacob’s gaze slid to the side, taking in the red numbers on the alarm clock across the room. They'd called it quits on the drive in the afternoon, and it was dipping towards evening now.  
  
Glancing back at Sam and Dean, he asked, "I'll think about those moves," he promised. Then, "Are there more you wanted to go over, or should I go and grab some dinner? Craving anything?"  
  
Over the last few weeks at Bobby's, both humans had discovered that it was hard to convince the brothers to admit what they wanted to eat, especially Sam. Dean would at least readily admit to enjoying certain foods, like bacon or pie, but Sam would just eat what he was given without complaint. Jacob asked gently this time, hoping he might get an answer, but he certainly didn't get his hopes too high. It would take time for them to get used to the idea that they _could_ ask, if they wanted to.  
  
Dean smirked. “I think we can call it quits for today,” he decided. “But…” He glanced over at Sam, teetering on an answer to Jacob’s question but uncertain if he should take the leap.  
  
Sam stared at the ground under his boots, his ears bright red at the question. He didn’t see any point to asking for food for himself. The meals that Jacob brought back were huge compared to the shrunken brothers no matter what he got. Neither brother could make a dent on them, so Sam saw no reason to waste the money. He could survive off of whatever Jacob gave him.  
  
It had been that way with Dean a lot. His older brother would come back with food for the family after successful scavenging trips (often more successful than Walt’s were because of Dean’s quirky edge on finding things), and he’d always make sure Sam was taken care of. It had been years before Sam had discovered that there were times when Dean went without just so Sam could have a full meal. No amount of scolding from Sam or Walt would change his mind when it was set.  
  
“I’m good,” Sam said quietly. “I can just eat whatever.”  
  
Dean bit his lip, indecision on his face. His normal stubbornness evaporated when he felt the hunger gnawing in his belly. For the first time in years, he started to play with the idea of actually having something to eat that _he’d_ picked.  
  
In order to get out the words, he didn’t let himself hesitate. “Do you think we could try… a… a cheeseburger?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t a stupid request.  
  
Jacob grinned. He gamely looked right past the pause they'd both taken before answering, choosing to act as if Dean had spoken up immediately. He could see Sam's blushing from where he rested his head, and didn't want to put any more pressure on the little guy. Getting even one of them to ask for something to eat was an accomplishment, and the last thing he wanted to risk was making them clam up again.  
  
"Cheeseburger it is," he said, finally sitting himself up straight again. He had to rub at his neck after leaning forward like he did for so long. "I think I saw a diner right up the road so I'll head out now. Won't be too long, I bet."  
  
That said, he pushed his chair back before standing up. He found his wallet where he'd dropped it on the dresser, shoving it into his back pocket, and picked up the key to the room. After a beat of hesitation, he grabbed the **DO NOT DISTURB** sign as well, and made his way to the door. Before opening it, he looked over his shoulder at the table where Sam and Dean stood. "Be right back," he bade them as he strode into the evening air.  
  
The door was locked behind him to make sure no one could barge in on his tiny roommates.  
  


* * *

  
Sam rubbed his neck once Jacob had left, unintentionally mirroring the human’s motions from before. He visibly relaxed, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Cheeseburger?” Sam asked Dean, as surprised as Jacob to hear him speak up. Maybe even more so.  
  
Dean gave him a sheepish shrug, walking over to the edge of the table. “Figured it can’t hurt, can it? I haven’t had a cheeseburger in fourteen years, I’ve at least earned _one_.” He sat down on the edge, letting his legs hang off the side as he watched the faraway door.  
  
Sam grabbed his satchel before joining Dean on the edge. “How’s the vertigo?” he asked softly.  
  
Glancing over the edge, Dean gave a slight shrug. “S’long as I don’t look straight down, I’m fine, really. It’s been better ever since I started hanging around with Godzilla. I guess hanging onto his shoulder while he fixes up the Impala does wonders for a man.”  
  
The roar of the Impala made it through the walls. Dean could feel the longing on his face as the rumble of his baby filled the air. Slick black and chrome, after weeks of repair she looked as good as the day she’d rolled off the line back in 1967. He’d gone over her with a fine-tooth comb before declaring their work done, and at his height a fine-tooth comb was finer than any human could even _see._  
  
Sam had inspected the panic room before leaving, and approved completely. Dean swelled with pride at the way his little brother was so impressed with the idea. If it came down to it, even Jacob couldn’t get into the room. They had a place where they’d be safe. Time to catch their breath and think of a plan for whatever was going to hell on the outside.  
  
“Nothing on dad yet, huh?” Dean asked, knowing if Sam had any more luck than he did, he would have mentioned it.  
  
Sam shook his head, making his fluffy hair fly into a mess. “Nothing. No traffic violations under the license plate Bobby gave us, his number is turned off so no one can contact him… It’s like he never even existed.”  
  
Dean sighed. Their search for John Winchester was starting to look like a fool’s errand, but at least they had hunting. They could do some good in the world, whether they found their father, or not.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Sam said reassuringly, knowing how much Dean wanted to find John and let him know what _really_ happened all those years ago. “Bobby’s going to keep his ears open and try and reach him if he can.”  
  
Dean had to smirk at that. “Even after he chased dad off his property with a shotgun,” he said, remembering hearing _that_ story for the first time.  
  
“Right,” Sam grinned right back.  
  
They sat there and watched the colors of the sunset against the curtains as the day began to slip into night.


	2. Borrowing Brothers

The diner was a little farther than Jacob had guessed, but he was in luck and there was almost no business ahead of him. He pulled the Impala into a nearly empty parking lot and left her close to the door when he went in.  
  
As usual, his prodigious size drew a few alarmed glances from the few patrons and waitstaff in the diner. He was used to this. He had been big for a while and he knew that it often surprised people to see someone so tall. He put on the least threatening demeanor he could manage when he smiled at the hostess, requesting a to-go menu.  
  
He had to hold back a smirk while he found the cheeseburgers they had to offer on the menu she handed him. _You people think I'm intimidating,_ he couldn't help but think. It was with a self-deprecating kind of humor that he reminded himself of the nicknames he'd earned from Dean.  
  
Dean gave Jacob more shit about his size than anyone ever dared, and he was smaller than Jacob’s _hand_. No one had bravery like that.  
  
He ordered and paid, and waited by the door with his hands in his hoodie pockets. There was no way for Jacob to blend in at his size, but he did assume a nondescript, nonthreatening sort of too-tallness. His best method was to be laid back to avoid looking like he was out to cause trouble.  
  
He nodded his thanks to the hostess when she brought the to-go boxes back in a plastic bag, and made his exit. He had a limited amount of time before the food cooled off, and he was certain to get an earful if that happened.  
  
He made it back to the door of the motel room in what he thought was decent time, unlocking it and heading inside quickly. He shut the door as soon as he was inside, locking it and securing the chain.  
  
"Made it," he announced with a grin, ambling back towards the table. His eyes scanned the room to make sure he knew where both of the brothers were as he moved.  
  
Over on the table, the two brothers scrambled to their feet and backed away from the edge where they’d been sitting as Jacob approached. Dean was quick, always nervous about the height. Having Jacob back around meant that his footsteps alone might be enough to jar them off of the side if they weren’t paying attention. Dean might gripe about it a lot, but they both understood it wasn’t really Jacob’s fault. The kid probably didn’t even notice the way the table quaked under them.  
  
Moving with a slower grace, Sam only backed a few inches away from the edge, his satchel slung over his shoulders. Dean’s larger duffel was left over to the side with their jackets from the sparring.  
  
Dean’s eyes landed on the take-out boxes and he brightened up. Clapping his hands together, he took a step forward. “So, what’d ya find for us?”  
  
Jacob set the bag down on the table before taking his seat, side-eyeing where the brothers had ended up. He was still getting used to the fact that one wrong move from him could actually be fatal for them. He never wanted to send them plummeting to the floor.  
  
One of the styrofoam boxes was notably smaller than the other two. Jacob set that one to the side for a moment, though he had a feeling it was all too easy to figure out what was in it. "They were outta apple, but they promise the peach pie is just as good," he said with a grin. "Had to grab some to try it. You guys can have what you want from it, too."  
  
One of the other takeout boxes he opened up and set it out in front for them to see, revealing a good old-fashioned American cheeseburger with a helping of fries tucked in with it. His own box revealed a mushroom and swiss burger, but Jacob hesitated to get started.  
  
"This stuff look alright?" he asked, glancing over the food and the brothers; he was aware, of course, that the second box was laden with far more than they'd be able to eat in one sitting, but Jacob was thinking ahead. He could nuke whatever they didn't eat the following morning for a quick breakfast, since the motel he picked didn't offer continental.  
  
“Alright?” Dean asked, his eyes wide. “Dude, I haven’t seen a meal like this in _years!_ Peach pie is awesome, but you really can’t beat apple pie unless you’ve got ice cream with it.” He closed his eyes as he rambled, remembering a peach cobbler in the past that had blown away almost all the other pies he’d had.  
  
Their time at Bobby’s had been some of the best food either brother had in ages, but it wasn’t exactly _fine dining_. Simple meals that were easy to scrape together for the eclectic group were the best, though the breakfast had always been Dean’s favorite. Bacon and eggs were hard to top. Dinner had varied between various soups, all with large helpings of vegetables that Sam enjoyed, hot dogs, deli meat sandwiches, and of course, grilled cheese.  
  
Now there was an entire _burger_ waiting for him. It was almost as tall as the brothers themselves, and gave off that greasy smell that was so familiar and tugged at the back of Dean’s mind. His mouth watered. The last time he’d smelled that, he’d had to watch from a vent as the guests at a motel ate through a meal just like this one. This time, the meal was all theirs.  
  
Sam flashed Jacob a smile before he followed Dean. “Thanks.”  
  
"Anytime," Jacob muttered in reply, inwardly pleased with himself that the food he'd gotten was going over so well. It was a simple, common diner meal that, Jacob realized, he probably took for granted like so many things. Seeing how excited the two cursed men were over it, he marveled at how big of a splash it made.  
  
Tackling the burger was a whole new experience for the pair. Dean climbed into the box first, jumping over the lip. It was half as tall as he was, and the white styrofoam crunched beneath his boots when he was in the box. He stepped over a fry as long as he was and as thick as his leg, intent on the burger.  
  
Sam caught up to him as he was slicing parts of the burger off to construct his own. With a smirk, Sam reached past his brother and snagged some of the lettuce and tomato (which was completely ignored by Dean), along with a bit of the burger and a piece of fry. In the end, Dean had a burger that looked almost as tall as his head, and Sam had a little bit of everything. They sat a few inches away from the takeout box with crossed legs to start on their oversized food. Sam had to close his eyes when he bit into the tomato, enjoying the amazingly fresh flavor of the fruit. Fresh food was a rare find at their motel.  
  
Jacob set into his own food once they'd secured their own, noting that Dean had gone for the meat while Sam made sure to grab vegetables, too. They fell into a surprisingly easy silence, intent on the hearty diner food.  
  
When his food was nearly gone, Jacob paused. "Okay, so, tomorrow we'll probably get into Garvin a little before lunchtime depending on when we leave," he mused aloud. "Bobby said there've been a few drownings in the same house over the last year, enough to suspect a ... a _vengeful spirit._ " Jacob said the words haltingly, almost still in disbelief that this was his life now. He'd volunteered for it.  
  
"So ... where do I start? How do I go find out if it's really a ghost?" He looked at Dean, the eldest of their group and the most likely to remember how Jacob was supposed to start hunting a ghost of all things.  
  
“Ah, man!” Dean said, almost wanting to knock himself in the head. “That’s right. We need to get you an EMF meter.”  
  
Of all the supplies they’d found scattered in the trunk of the Impala underneath the false bottom, an EMF meter must have been something that John Winchester had kept for himself. Dean’s old sawed-off was down there, along with a few knives and some more specialized weaponry. Most of it needed a good cleaning before it would work, but that hadn’t taken much time at all, and Bobby had checked the guns to make sure they wouldn’t backfire on Jacob when he tried to fire them. A mishap like that could take his hand off.  
  
Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Until we can get you a working EMF, we’re gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.” He met Sam’s eyes, who was just as curious. Being cursed at only ten, Sam had only learned the bare bones from their father before they were taken right out of the life they knew, and the majority of his knowledge had been either pried free of Dean or stolen from the journal.  
  
That, at least, was theirs now. They could pore over the entries all the way up to 1993, when John had stopped using the book. He’d probably gotten a different journal to avoid all the memories of his boys.  
  
“Spirits are pretty easy to recognize,” Dean said, warming to the subject. The rest of his burger lay forgotten in his hands while it all came back to him. “Flickering lights, electronics going crazy… cold spots. If I’m right, I remember reading that all of the drownings happened at night, _mostly_ in the bathroom.” There had been one that had happened in the kitchen _sink,_ baffling authorities. They didn’t know whether to call it a suicide or a homicide. “That means the spirit is probably active at night. We can slip in, do a sweep of the place to see what’s going on. If you get in a room where the temperature drops by ten degrees or more… get out the salt.”  
  
Jacob nodded, his eyes wide and attentive. Dean may have only been 14 when he was cursed, but he knew a lot more about this stuff than Jacob did by that age. Jacob hadn't had many chances to look over the journal, with Sam and Dean claiming it, and he'd spent most of the last few weeks working on a car.  
  
Needless to say, he had a lot of catching up to do and would probably end up in crash courses like this several more times before he got the hang of things. It was a good thing he had Dean, who committed lessons like this to memory. In some cases, lessons he'd learned before Jacob was born.  
  
"Right, okay, salt," Jacob echoed, remembering at least that basic tip. It represented purity, or something like that, and it repelled spirits and some other things. It was a hunter's must-have at pretty much all times.  
  
Another thought came to him, one that had to be asked sooner rather than later. "And when you say 'slip in,' you mean I gotta break into this house, right?" Jacob had no idea how someone as bulky as himself would manage the stealth needed for such an endeavor. He'd never broken the law in his life, and yet here he was plotting to break into someone's home to see about getting rid of a spirit before it claimed anyone else. It was almost laughable. "Any advice you have on _that_ , I'm all ears."  
  
Dean crossed his arms, thinking it over. His sandwich was abandoned and forgotten to the side. He didn’t even notice when Sam carefully wrapped it up in a scrap of extra fabric he kept on hand. “If you’ve got some paper clips, I can getcha in,” he mused out loud. “Too bad we don’t have my old lockpick. You’ll have to find a new one and I’ll teach you and Sam how to get through locks if you have to. I’ll need at least two, but we should keep extras in our bags for the next time we break in. Dark clothes, too. There’s a reason we’ve got almost all brown, black or dark blue clothing. I’m not sure how Sam talked Mallory into making him the grey t-shirts.”  
  
Dean stood abruptly, pacing back and forth as he talked. He was adapting quickly to being back in the hunter lifestyle, and he shifted into ‘hunter mode’ almost seamlessly. “We’re going to need supplies. Me an’ Sam should have salt of our own on hand if we’re dealing with a spirit. We can probably cut up some cloth and make sacks to hold it. If you make a trip to Radio Shack or somewhere, I can probably cobble together an EMF meter, but I wouldn’t have it done in time for tomorrow night. It’ll need some fine tuning and testing. You wouldn’t want to risk your ass on it before I work out the kinks, same as any weapon.”  
  
Sam was just as wide-eyed as Jacob as he listened. He’d read a lot in the journal, and he knew more, but Dean was the one that had been in the nitty-gritty growing up. A lot of responsibility had been foisted on his shoulders from a young age, and it had helped forge him into a natural leader.  
  
“If you’ve got anything iron,” Dean said as he finished up, “you’ll want to keep that with you too. It’s just as useful against the spirits as salt, and reusable.”  
  
Jacob paused before answering, making sure the list was finished. He was certain there would be more, but at the moment Dean had listed off an eclectic mix of things for Jacob to get, and he didn't even know what they'd need to make the EMF meter yet.  
  
"When we get into town tomorrow I'll have to write down a list," he decided. "I can go get that stuff while we're waiting for a good time to get investigating." It left him a whole afternoon to track down whatever he needed, plus a little time for Dean to teach Jacob how to deal with locks. The three of them were really jumping headfirst into this business, and Jacob was glad they had Dean there to step up and figure out what needed to be done. On his own, Jacob would have no idea where to start.  
  
A grin snuck onto his face. "It's kinda cool," he admitted. "I mean, if this spirit is drowning people, then who knows how many people we'll be helping by taking care of it?"  
  
Dean gave him a feral grin back. He’d been waiting almost his entire life to be able to get out into the world and _save_ people. The curse inflicted on him and Sam only enhanced his desire to keep anyone else from sharing that fate, and now they had someone willing to learn and help.  
  
“That’s our job,” Dean proclaimed. “The family business.”  
  


* * *

  
The remainder of the night was uneventful. Dean and Sam had to find a place to sleep, since staying up on one of the beds in the _wide open space_ was out of the question. There was no way that either of them would get any sleep even if they took shifts acting as lookout, and they both agreed that would be a wasted effort. They’d lived in the bookshelf in Jacob’s room at Bobby’s for a few weeks and he’d never bothered them once, even after finding out where they were holed up. Aside from when Sam had dragged him over to help Dean out with his hangover.  
  
The nightstand turned out to be the best choice. The bottom was an open shelf that wouldn’t close on them like a drawer. There were walls on all sides but the front, giving them only one direction they’d have to worry about intrusion from. With some encouragement from Dean, Jacob left his backpack propped casually against the side, blocking half of the shelf from sight and creating a room with a modicum of privacy for them.  
  
Since Jacob hadn’t minded them ‘borrowing’ one of his t-shirts back at Bobby’s, they did the same here. The two brothers took a shirt into the corner blocked off by Jacob’s backpack and set up their own sleeping area. There was plenty of space, no matter how much Sam tried to sprawl out his lanky form, and Dean just balled up in a corner anyway.  
  
Sleep came swiftly to the brothers after the excitement of the day. They weren’t used to being out of the walls so much yet.   
  
A lot had changed for them in the last few weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jacob, no matter who he's around, is universally 'too tol'
> 
> And the brothers have started a habit of snitching shirts to sleep in. They forgot to tell him that was the plan!
> 
> **Next:** Coming November 20 th, 2016
> 
> Comments and kudos are love!


	3. A Distant Watcher

Jacob slept soundly through the night. He had heard from Dean once or twice about the so-called "hunter's sleep," a lighter rest that one could wake from quickly. It was prudent to stay alert enough to defend himself in any situation. But Jacob, after over a year with a set lifestyle of working himself until he was exhausted every day, would take a while to get used to it.  
  
He felt like he'd hardly laid his head on the pillow before the morning was greeting him again along with a wake-up call from a certain pair of cursed brothers. Dean, as usual, did the actual waking with Sam watching from a distance. Sam hadn't woken Jacob up since the time Dean was out of commission with a hangover. With their plans laid out, it didn't take long for the three of them to get going once more. Jacob packed their few belongings quickly, not saying a word when he found the shirt shoved into the back corner of the nightstand.  
  
The Impala tore down the highway, her newly-restored engine roaring. After over a decade of sitting and gathering rust, the car almost seemed happy to be back on the job again. Jacob might not be as much of a car aficionado as Dean, but even he knew that this car didn't deserve to sit idle for so long.  
  
When they finally pulled into the little Oklahoma town, Jacob had a brief bout of nerves. He'd be breaking into a house (thankfully unoccupied at the moment, due to the very peculiar most recent drowning) that night. It was something like stage fright, except he sincerely hoped he didn't have an audience aside from Sam and Dean. If he got tossed in jail, they'd be high and dry at _best._   
  
At worst, they'd get discovered, all because of him.  
  
It was on his mind all day as he ran his errands about the town, getting ready for the hunt. He couldn't afford to let them down, plain and simple.  
  
They checked out the history of the house at the local library with Dean whispering directions to Jacob from his hood when no one was around, and were startled to find there was nothing even slightly hinky in the history. No one had ever died on the property before the strange round of unexplained attacks, not from an innocent heart attack and certainly not from a drowning. They’d have to check out the house for themselves to be able to find out any information.  
  
When the time finally came, Jacob found himself wearing a black hoodie and his darkest jeans, an attempt to blend his enormous body into the shadows of the residential neighborhood. Per Dean's instructions, the Impala was parked a decent distance away, pointing towards their best exit route. Just in case.  
  
Jacob crouched in the far back corner of the backyard to the house that was supposedly haunted by a drowning ghost. The grass was already overgrown, thanks to no one being around to care for it as the days warmed and encouraged the weeds to grow like, well, weeds.  
  
"Sam?" he whispered, eyes darting around and still adjusting to the dark. "Am I clear?"  
  
Sam nodded, then remembered himself. He was perched up on Jacob’s shoulder, playing the lookout. His unique ability to _know_ when he was being looked at was an invaluable asset. Standing up on Jacob’s shoulder meant that anyone looking in their direction would set it off, and so long as he remained out of Jacob’s line of sight, Sam didn’t have to worry about the human interfering with his ability.  
  
The darkness wasn’t as absolute to Sam or Dean as it was to Jacob. Years of living inside the dim walls had left them well-adjusted to seeing in the shadows. Sam’s pupils were wide and black, blocking out most of the hazel in them. He scanned the area steadily, unable to stop his attention from wandering to the ground under Jacob’s feet from time to time, instinctively watching the place where _he’d_ be standing if not for their unique circumstances.  
  
The grass swayed in a slight breeze, and Sam stared at the shadows in the backyard. There were no dark forms lurking in the darkness, and he deemed it safe for them.  
  
“All clear,” Sam said for Jacob’s benefit. The human wouldn’t be able to see a gesture like a nod from that angle. He put a hand against the neck he was standing next to for reassurance, leaning into it. “You’ve got this. Just stay light on your feet.”  
  
The light touch was little more than a tickle. Jacob really had to pay close attention to know what was going on with the brothers when they were standing on him like that. Their hands were absolutely miniscule. Jacob was really pushing his ability to be careful in the last few weeks to avoid accidentally hurting them. It'd be all too easy.  
  
They’d put a lot of faith in him, so he would make what effort he needed.  
  
He nodded to show he'd heard and crept forward hesitantly. The grass rustled under his boots, but when he didn't hear Sam bark out a warning, he continued on. Crossing the yard was easy, and yet he couldn't help but feel like someone could notice his not-at-all-subtle shape moving in the dark.  
  
He got to the back door, and, just for kicks, tried the knob. It was locked, as he expected. He fished into his jeans pocket for the lockpicks Dean had helped him fashion just that afternoon.  
  
"Okay ... here goes nothing," he mumbled, clumsily poking the two implements of the lockpick into the slot on the doorknob. It didn't help that he had trouble seeing what he was doing.  
  
On the opposite shoulder from Sam, Dean watched Jacob’s motions in silence. He hadn’t had much to do yet; Sam was more suited to getting them this far without being seen. His normal ability of finding things wouldn’t come into play… though he could imagine how useful it would be if they ever needed to track down something like a hexbag.  
  
Jacob’s motions were stilted as he attempted to pick the lock. It was clear he’d never done this out in the real world, aside from the fact that the human had a difficult time seeing in the dark like they could. Dean had to clench a fist, wishing he could help.  
  
Then realized he could.  
  
 _Ah, screw it._  
  
Dean slid down the arm of Jacob’s black hoodie, landing on powerful muscles that were wide enough for him to use as a bridge to the hands working diligently away at the doorknob. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he said with a confident smirk, his eyes easily able to make out the keyhole in the dark.  
  
Jacob froze for a second at the sound of Dean's voice, definitely not coming from where he'd expected the eldest of their trio to be. He finally noticed the faint sensation of small boots walking on him, his focus no longer zeroed in on the lock. He hadn't even _noticed_ Dean climbing down.  
  
He held still and followed the movement of the small form on his arm with wide eyes. He could have shifted or twitched or done something to sent Dean plummeting!   
  
_Thanks for the warning,_ he thought ruefully.  
  
"Alright," Jacob muttered, some exasperation in his tone as Dean arrived at his wrist. He turned his hand over slowly, giving Dean time to adjust to the movement of the platform while he made his palm available. A broad, steady surface formed right in front of the lock that was giving Jacob so much trouble. He cupped his other hand nearby like a railing and a break against the gentle night breeze. Dean was small enough that a gentle breeze might be enough to offset his balance.  
  
"Knock 'em dead, dude," Jacob said, holding himself still. He'd at least had practice with that while he worked on the car with the little mechanic.  
  
Dean pulled the picks from between Jacob’s fingers, hefting them experimentally. The torque wrench was slightly longer than he was tall, and awkward to hold. He was strong enough to wield them both without a problem, but there was no way to get the dexterity he needed like that.  
  
Propping the torque wrench against the doorknob, Dean pushed it inside, then stepped down on it with his boot to get the force he needed. _Perfect,_ he thought. It would work. That freed up both his arms to maneuver the pick itself, and he set to work on the lock instantly.  
  
It was a tense few minutes while he worked. Sam played the silent sentinel up on Jacob’s shoulder, waiting for the tell-tale prickle of danger to ghost across his neck. Jacob held his hand as steady as possible, made easier by the practice he’d had while they worked on the car together. Having the lockpick was another plus. The paperclips that Dean and Sam now had stashed in their bags would work in a bind, but would be clumsier if they needed to break in or out of anything. He’d have to get Sam to practice a time or two.  
  
Dean gave a hiss of triumph when he heard the click of the last tumbler. He shoved with his boot and pulled with his arms, and the lock twisted open. “Hell yeah, I still got it,” he declared with a grin.  
  
Jacob grinned, retrieving the lockpick from Dean now that the small tools were no longer needed. He pocketed them swiftly, determined not to lose them in all the excitement. He'd never hear the end of it if he had to go sifting through the grass in the dark backyard for implements barely the length of his finger.  
  
"Wow," he breathed, hesitantly turning the doorknob. It gave without any resistance, demonstrating Dean's success breaking the lock. A lock wide enough that he might almost be able to slip his hand into it.  
  
Once inside the house, Jacob paused to get his bearings, shutting the back door behind himself. He stood on the linoleum floor of a kitchen, and there was a faint sickly sweet odor in the air that suggested the family that lived there had vacated in a hurry after the most recent drowning, possibly leaving the fruitbowl behind.  
  
Jacob glanced at the sink, or what he could see of it in the low light making it through the window. He knew that it was not the same sink where someone had drowned recently, but all the same he didn't walk over to investigate it.  
  
After a pause in which no one came at him with a baseball bat, Jacob determined that they really must be alone in the house. He lifted the hand that Dean still stood proudly on so that he was level with Sam and Jacob.  
  
"Okay, guys ... where to?"  
  
Dean scanned the area, pausing briefly when he met Sam’s eyes. It was so strange to see his brother sitting on a human’s shoulder. And he himself was standing on a hand they all knew very well was big enough to close around him without a problem.   
  
“We should hit up the bathrooms, and me an’ Sam can probably check out the walls if we need to,” he declared. Their size could be useful in more ways than one. “We’ve both got salt on hand if we need it. We’ve got to figure out what’s going on here so we can get rid of it and we have to take advantage of our size when we can.”  
  
Jacob nodded to show his agreement, and then glanced around once more. He held his hand up next to his shoulder so Dean could climb on and get back to his vantage point, and so both of Jacob's hands were free. He had a small container of salt in one hoodie pocket, and Dean's old Colt tucked away in his jeans. It blew his mind a little bit that the firearm would be the least effective of the two weapons against a spirit.  
  
Finding an archway leading out of the kitchen and into a hallway, he stepped as lightly as he could. He'd been trying to be conscious about that lately, though he was certain he was still "stomping,” as Dean liked to point out. Floorboards creaked accusingly and Jacob knew the shrunken hunter was right.  
  
The hall bathroom only had a toilet and sink in it. Remembering that most of the drownings had occurred in a bathtub, Jacob only gave it a cursory sweep before moving on. He could always come back to it later.  
  
The second floor of the house had a bigger bathroom that was far more promising. Jacob stood in the center of it with one tiny brother on each shoulder. He paused for a while before admitting "Okay, so I don't feel any cold spots." He frowned at the tub, where several people had died in the last year.  
  
"You guys wanna check out the walls? I can sweep the rest of the house again. Maybe the ghost is shy to have an audience." He didn't even smirk at his own stupid jest, still on edge from breaking and entering. He had no idea what to expect, and just that thought had him tense and ready for something to pop out from around any corners.  
  
“It’s as good a plan as any,” Sam agreed, glancing around the room. He was searching for any entrances into the wall, and he knew that on Jacob’s other shoulder, Dean would be doing the same.  
  
There were many different ways to get into the walls at the _Trails West_ where they’d grown up together. Peeling wallpaper could conceal openings in the walls, and vents made broad, metallic passages that wound their way through the rooms. Even under the floorboards could become a maze in and of itself, and that was the world that they’d had as their home for so long.  
  
It made spotting the entrances second nature to the brothers. A spot on the wall that Jacob’s eyes would just slide right past could draw Sam’s gaze to it like a magnet. It was a camouflage that their lives could depend on, and one that they were going to show to Jacob. He’d earned their trust.  
  
A spot caught Sam’s eye next to the sink. “There,” he said, pointing at the wallpaper that stood below the bathroom mirror and above the sink. “I bet that’s a passage.”  
  
Jacob turned to face the dusty mirror, his reflection mimicking him in the murky glass. The only light in the room leaked in from the hallway, since he couldn't risk switching on any lights adjacent to windows. It wasn't enough for him to see what Sam was pointing out, but then again that was the point.  
  
He wasn't supposed to be able to see the entrances that they'd use. It was one of the best defenses people Sam and Dean's size had against being discovered. If no one suspected they were there, no one would come looking.  
  
Instead of offering his hands as platforms for the brothers, Jacob took a different route that they'd used before and simply placed his hands against the sink. His arms formed slopes from his shoulders, easy ramps for Sam and Dean to hop off right where they could sneak into the walls. It gave the brothers more independence, and he knew how proud they could be.  
  
"I'll check the first floor again real quick, see if I find any cold spots," he told them, thinking to himself that it'd be pretty tough for them not to know where he was at all times. "If I find anything I'll come and ... I guess just call for you or something."  
  
Sam slapped his neck. “We’ll be listening,” he reassured the human. “We don’t want to lose our only ride out of here.”  
  
Dean snorted as he stared to make his way down towards the counter. “Who else is going to keep an eye on Godzilla?”  
  
Both brothers reached the counter at the same time, stepping off so they were standing between Jacob’s arms. Dean looked serious. “Look, you see _anything_ strange, you get the salt out, you hear me? Running water, flickering lights, cold spots… don’t write it off. We need you in one piece, and that means you _don’t_ want to drop your guard.”  
  
He gave a wave, then jogged over to where Sam was testing the wallpaper. The edge was turned up, and with a good tug Sam revealed a dark passageway.  
  
“Good job, Sammy,” Dean said, impressed despite himself. Entrances like the ones they used had a tendency to be hard to spot if they’d never seen them before. Sam was a natural at it while Dean sometimes struggled.  
  
Dean slipped in first, his hand on the hilt of his knife for security. Sam followed quickly after, letting the wallpaper fall back down as though the passageway didn’t exist.  
  
Jacob stared at the spot they'd disappeared into for several seconds. He could just _barely_ make out where the wallpaper pulled away to admit them into the wall. And that was only because he'd just seen it happen moments ago.  
  
It was incredible to think that a small space on the wall that probably had eyes facing it all the time was so innocuous. How many times had a resident of the house stared tiredly at that exact spot and not noticed a thing?  
  
Shaking off the fascination, Jacob focused on the task at hand. They'd come there to do a job, and he was determined to do a good one. With that in mind, he headed out of the bathroom, ready to do a thorough sweep of the house and watch for any signs that might tell him where the ghost was.  
  


* * *

  
Inside the walls, another pair of eyes was watching the wallpaper opening, but with far more awareness of it. Melanie stared with unmasked awe as the two guys climbed into the wall onto a support beam up above. She huddled behind a vertical beam down towards the base of the wall, almost frozen to the spot.  
  
She, like the other few residents of the would-be empty house, could not have missed the absolutely enormous teen breaking in through the back door. As if this house needed more bad luck, some local kid thought he would loot the place while the usual humans were gone.  
  
Or so they assumed. Melanie had only heard him walking around. When he started talking, seemingly to himself, in the bathroom, she'd wandered closer to listen. Just in time to see the wallpaper entrance peel away.  
  
Straight bangs were agitated by long eyelashes as she peered up at them. These guys were pretty tall, a grim irony making them match how truly massive the human was. And they'd been with him the whole time he traversed the house.  
  
Melanie wasn't sure if they were pets or what, but she didn't dare go up and ask. They looked strong. They could easily drag her back to be captured, too.  
  
Darting around the vertical beam, Melanie made her way to the next one while the men busied themselves gaining their bearings. She didn't want to talk to them, but she did want a closer look. Curiosity was frustrating that way.  
  
The slightly shorter (but still rather tall) man's face angled in her direction for a bare instant, but Melanie blinked at the sight of it. He looked to be about her age. Melanie pursed her lips as she glanced over the defined jawline and intense brow. She hadn't met anyone close to her age before.  
  
Just her luck that a handsome one would wander in with a _human,_ most definitely making any chances with him dwindle to zero.  
  
Her mouth twisted into a little frown and she pushed a lock of straight-as-a-rail dark hair behind one ear. It wouldn't hurt anything to stare just a few extra seconds before she had to evade their notice. Her mind kept summoning up scenarios of walking right up to him and talking to him.   
  
It was cruel of her imagination to suggest such a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems that Sam and Dean aren't the only ones in the walls of the house!
> 
> Since The Water's Fine is a shorter case fic, voting for a new story has begun! Please [go here](https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/KLZ3GNB) to cast your vote!
> 
> **Next:** Coming November 22 nd, 2016
> 
> Comments and kudos are love! Let us know what you think!


	4. The Mystery Girl

The walls closed in around the brothers in a familiar, comforting darkness.  
  
Though they’d spent the last few weeks actually out of the walls and around humans they trusted, it didn’t feel natural yet. Almost a decade and a half of keeping out of sight had made the comforting close quarters of the walls into their home. Outside of that was danger, exposure, and the possibility of being seen or caught.  
  
Jacob, at least, gave them safety outside of the walls. If he was around, Dean doubted that anyone would even be able to _try_ snatching up the cursed brothers. The teenager, though younger than Sam and Dean, was massive. He was a force to be reckoned with, and Dean didn’t think he’d let them down. Not after he’d thrown his lot in with them.  
  
The walls stretched far above their heads, beams of plywood forming colossal corridors. Light leaked in from the hall where Jacob had turned on the lights, and distant footsteps shook the beam under their feet, causing displaced motes of dust to drift lazily downward into the dark.  
  
They both took in their surroundings, bright, alert eyes scanning the hidden world around them. The beam under their feet stretched out, and Sam lead the way.  
  
“Watch out for hexbags,” Dean muttered to Sam, falling into the quiet tones they always used when sneaking around. Even though in this place they’d be safe if they were heard, it was almost impossible to fight instincts. Those instincts had kept them alive for over a decade.  
  
“I thought it was a spirit,” Sam shot back over his shoulder.  
  
“You never know. Bobby might be wrong. We’ve gotta keep open minds.”  
  
They were quiet after that, keeping an eye out for anything that didn’t fit in with what they’d expect to find inside the walls. There was less dust inside than the motel had, and the structure of the building seemed cleaner.  
  
Sam never reacted to eyes on them, his normal ability only working when humans were staring at him. He started to drift farther out in front as Dean paused a few times, wondering if he’d heard footsteps in the walls or if he was just hearing Jacob from a distance.  
  
It was hard to be sure.  
  
The third pair of eyes watching them so intently didn't waver for several seconds more. As Melanie observed them, their appearances became stranger and stranger. Their clothes, for one, looked like they were modeled after _human_ styles. The shorter man, with the casual spike in his hair, was wearing a _leather jacket._ She'd never seen anything like it.  
  
Their conversation didn't reveal much of anything either. Aside from insanity, perhaps, because they made no sense whatsoever. They were talking about spirits, but that couldn't be real. No matter that some weird things had been happening in the house lately ...  
  
Melanie leaned out just a little farther while she thought, hardly even realizing it. Curiosity gripped her and simply wouldn't let go, though she was still far too nervous to try to talk to them. They could still be dangerous to her. Her shoe shifted on the ground, shuffling in the dust. She glanced down with a wince, glad the sound was quiet.  
  
When she looked back up, she locked eyes with an intense gaze.  
  
Melanie gasped and her heart fluttered. There was some heat in her cheeks but she was preoccupied with the fear in her gut. Wasting no more time, she turned on her heel and bolted away, hoping to get out of sight before they could drag her back to their human companion.  
  
“No, wait!” Dean let out a curse as the girl darted away from him. It was just their luck that the first time they saw another person their size in weeks, they’d run away.  
  
Forgetting that Sam had wandered farther away on the path and was likely out of earshot, Dean ran after her, hoping to catch up before she ducked down a hidden pathway he couldn’t find. If any of the people around had seen them standing on Jacob’s shoulders, as nice as the kid was, it would be a huge deterrent to anyone wanting to stay and talk. Even Dean couldn’t believe they were with him some days, when he remembered back to their first unfortunate encounter. Being grabbed in a hand, trapped in a coffee pot…  
  
Like he’d said before, Jacob made _terrible_ first impressions.  
  
“Hold up, I’m not gonna hurt you!” Dean called out, foregoing stealth for speed and the hope that she might listen to him. “I just have a few questions! We need help!”  
  
Melanie looked over her shoulder frantically, wishing she could run faster. He was gaining on her already, despite her head start. Standing under three and a half inches meant her legs were simply too short to carry her very fast. Combine that with how sparse food had been in the last several weeks with no one stocking the shelves, and Melanie was in no shape to sprint for long.  
  
"Y-you're with a _human,_ " she called back to him, as if that cleared everything up. In her mind, it did. With how massive the human was, he was a danger to her and everyone living in the house. Even the weakest humans could overpower them easily.  
  
The pipes leading to the faucet of the tub loomed ahead of her. Melanie hesitated, wondering if she would have time to climb up. The sound of the man's sturdy boots scraping on dust on the ground as he chased her made the decision. She nearly toppled over when she came to a stop and all but threw herself up the ladder formed by the supports for the pipes.  
  
The metal supports were spaced just far enough apart that Melanie had to really stretch to reach each one, but she climbed as quickly as she could. There should be a loose tile near the bathtub. She could take a shortcut from there. There had to be somewhere she could lose the guy before his human caught on to anything.  
  
"Just leave me alone!" she insisted, pausing for just a moment to look down and see if he'd followed her.  
  
“Be careful!” Dean shouted out instinctively when he saw how dangerous her climb was. “I promise, we’re just here to help!”  
  
He growled when she didn’t show any sign of slowing down, and started to climb up after her. “Seriously,” he muttered to himself, “what is it with everyone always _climbing?_ ”  
  
The climb wasn’t as harrowing for Dean as it was for her, thanks to his longer body. He could reach the handholds without a problem, and for the first time in his life, it looked like he was actually _faster_ than someone at climbing up. He didn’t bother congratulating himself, intent on catching up to her before she got herself hurt trying to run away from him.  
  
“Please?” Dean called up. He didn’t need to worry about being overheard, so he didn’t bother lowering the volume of his voice.  
  
He froze for a second as a chill crept up his spine. His breath fogged the air in front of him.  
  
 _Not good._  
  
He redoubled his climbing speed, desperate to get up to her before anything happened. The pouch of salt crystals tucked into his jacket might be enough to keep them safe.  
  
Melanie winced and continued her efforts to climb away. _Why_ did she think it was a good idea to look back at him? It only slowed her down. She shuddered, chilled by the thought of being caught. She had no idea what would happen or what he would do.  
  
She saw her breath fog in front of her and frowned, shuddering again even as she pulled herself up higher. The old tile was just ahead, but things were getting _freezing_ in the walls.  
  
The pipe right next to her started to rattle. Melanie gasped at the sudden wave of heat from it as hot water rushed up its length to the bathtub faucet, and she hesitated again. This had happened before. It was why the other humans had left the house. There was something wrong with the plumbing.  
  
A wavery noise somewhere between exasperation and fear escaped her throat. "Not again!" Melanie continued her climb. Why'd all of this have to happen at once? A guy her age shows up, but with a _human,_ so she has to run from him. Then, in a display of the worst timing ever, the stupid pipes act up while she makes her escape.  
  
She stopped at the narrow support beam just in front of the tile that she knew, with a good shove, would open up enough to escape the walls. Melanie put her hands on it, and paused. She could hear the water crashing into the massive basin just on the other side of the barrier.  
  
She looked back at the man following her, concern written all over her face even as she noticed the concern written on _his._ "I-I ... why does this keep happening? Who ... why are you with a human?" she called down to him, even as he closed the distance between them. Curiosity, confusion, and a pleading for _something_ to make sense after weeks of uncertainty was angled down at Dean.  
  
The roar of the water rushing through the pipes almost drowned out her voice. Grasping the last ledge, Dean hauled himself up. He held a hand out to her in a calming gesture, hoping that she wasn’t going to dart off on him again. One wrong move could send either of them plunging off the side and onto the ground that stretched down at least three feet below.  
  
The girl was small, and clearly skittish and afraid. Trying to ignore the freezing temperature (though he did pull out his pouch of salt), Dean approached her. “Look, Jacob’s safe, I promise. It’s a long story, but first we need to get …”  
  
His explanation was interrupted by a screeching laugh that elicited a squeak of surprise from the girl. Dean whipped around, holding an arm out to block the girl from sight. It was lucky she was so much smaller than he was. His body was enough to shield her from view.  
  
A few inches away, standing on the edge that he’d just climbed over, was another girl that stood around the same size as the first. It would be easy to confuse them if the second didn’t have water rushing down her body, seemingly from nowhere. She took a flickering step towards them. “Traitor,” she breathed. “I called out for you, I was _desperate_ for you to save me!”  
  
Despite the fact that Dean was standing between them, the spirit’s eyes were trained solidly on the first girl. She took another step. “Why didn’t anyone _hear_ me calling?! I drowned because of you!” Her voice echoed weirdly around them, like she was in a canyon.  
  
She held up a hand, and Dean ripped the cord off of the pouch of salt. Before he could dispel her with it, a massive force slammed into the two living people, tossing them into the old tile. Dean took the brunt of the impact, and was instantly knocked unconscious.  
  
The tile gave under their weight, and they plummeted towards the filling bathtub below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa, Dean wake up! You have to save her!
> 
> Since The Water's Fine is a shorter case fic, voting for a new story has begun! Please [go here](https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/KLZ3GNB) to cast your vote!
> 
> **Next:** Coming November 24 th, 2016
> 
> Comments and kudos are love!


	5. What's a Pickup Line

Time stretched around mere seconds of freefall.   
  
Melanie flailed and twisted desperately in midair, glimpsing the faded shape of someone she never expected to see again standing just outside the tile entrance and watching them fall. Dean dropped like a stone next to her, his body limp and unresponsive to her yelps of fear.  
  
They hit the turbulent surface of the water together, and the confusion slammed out of her mind, leaving only room for blind panic. Water plummeted into the tub at full blast, creating a relentless white current that dragged both Melanie and Dean beneath the surface the second they hit the water.  
  
Melanie's shoulder satchel was lost to her in the chaotic movement, forgotten debris in the immense whirlpool of the filling bathtub. As she kicked and flailed her arms to try to get to the surface of the water, she could swear her fingertips brushed across a leather sleeve before the current yanked it downwards, away from her frantically grasping hand.  
  
The man who had chased her, who had started to insist that a _human,_ of all things, was safe, had also tried to _save_ her. He’d shielded her from the brunt of the bizarre attack with his own body.   
  
Now, they would drown together.  
  
He would die, simply because he tried to protect her, a complete stranger, from the spirit of someone she thought gone for good.  
  
Melanie broke the surface of the water with a heaving gasp, whipping her gaze around. She only saw the edges of the tub and the tarnished silver faucet. Smooth, towering white cliffs rose above her head, putting safety out of reach for her or the man who helped her. The faucet continued to fill the tub with water that dragged at her body and tried to pull her down. Waves crashed over her head several times, and she couldn't see her one-time pursuer anywhere.   
  
Melanie choked on a cry for help even as derisive laughter cackled all around her.  
  
The current took hold of her again and the laughter went silent as though it never existed as a thunderous noise echoed around the room. The overhead light turned on, illuminating the watery tomb. Melanie shut her eyes from the brightness and slipped underwater again, losing her grasp on up and down.   
  
It almost felt like there was an icy hand gripping at her ankle and _dragging_ her towards the place where the water was churned up mercilessly by the running faucet.  
  
Just as quickly as Melanie plummeted down, something huge rushed up underneath and cupped gently around her body, lifting her from the water.  
  


* * *

  
The first shape that Jacob dragged from the water was a lot smaller and thinner than either Sam or Dean. His eyes were wide as he stared at the soaked, bedraggled form of the third little he’d ever encountered. She collapsed in a heap on his palm, soaking wet and hacking pitifully even as water rushed off his hand and back into the bathtub.  
  
He was downstairs when he’d heard it. It was like a switch had flipped in the house. Jacob had been investigating the first floor of the house, scouring for any sign of the spirit when a chill in the air made him shudder and the rattling roar of the pipes had sputtered through the air. The kitchen sink had nearly scalded him with an unexpected downpour of hot water.  
  
When no attacker materialized in the air, he knew of only two other possible targets. Jacob had rushed upstairs to find Sam and Dean, and was met with the sight of a tiny arm slipping into the churning water, yanked out of sight with a hungry ferocity.  
  
He gave the small woman only a second’s glance before plunging his other hand into the water. The sleeve of his hoodie was drenched and the moving water tugged at it, but he paid it no mind. Someone floated at the bottom of the tub. Their image wavered, making it impossible for Jacob to tell who they were.  
  
They weren’t moving.  
  
Jacob scooped his fingers underneath the tiny form, nearly closing his hand around it completely to cushion them. They were so small. So fragile.  
  
So easily hurt.   
  
He pulled them from the water and deposited them next to the girl that was hacking and sputtering on his other hand.  
  
With a thumb, Jacob nudged the small body. He paid careful mind to the limp arms when they flopped on his palm from the movement, zeroing in on the tiny, soaked face.  
  
His heart almost felt like it recoiled from a strike and his eyes widened in panicked recognition. “Dean?!”  
  
The older of the two brothers was so small, lying there on Jacob's palm. His tiny form didn’t even stretch from one side to the other. The little duffel bag was nowhere to be found and the leather jacket he was so proud of was drenched. The roaring sound of the water in the tub gave Jacob a good idea of where the bag must be but he didn't have room to care about that. All of his worry was focused down on the tiny man on his hand. Dean’s casual spike of hair was matted to his forehead, and he didn’t stir as Jacob stared down at him with wide eyes.  
  
He couldn't even tell if Dean was _breathing._  
  
"D-Dean, man, you gotta be okay," Jacob muttered, his fingertip barely grazing Dean's chest. He couldn't feel if it was rising and falling. Jacob was too fucking big to be any help.   
  
Even attempting CPR would be impossible for him. There was no way to know how much pressure it would take to revive Dean, and how much it would take to crush him.  
  
Jacob was _too big._  
  
The girl finally registered how close Jacob’s hand had come during his check of Dean, and she sputtered and screamed. He winced and drew his hand back, but it didn’t make a difference. Now she was looking around herself with panic lighting up her wide, terrified eyes, her head whipping from side to side as she realized exactly where she was. She was _on_ a hand, so he couldn't offer her much comfort there.  
  
Jacob had to make a concerted effort not to panic right along with her. He had no idea where Sam was, and Dean had been unconscious before he even arrived. They were his best bet for calming this girl down, and they couldn’t help.  
  
Reaching out, Jacob practically ripped the handle of the faucet out of the wall to shut it off, and the room became much quieter.  
  
The babbled pleas out of the girl curled up on his hand near Dean remained, terrified sounds that made Jacob worry she might pass out from fear.  
  
"Hey, please don't be upset," Jacob muttered, cupping his free hand close like he was shielding a candle from the wind. "Please, I just wanna know if you're hurt. Are you injured?"  
  
He let her shake and quiver on his hand for several drawn out seconds while his words sank in. In his mind, Jacob was clamoring to _do something to help Dean,_ but he couldn't. It was too likely that Jacob would hurt him. He was too big.  
  
But this woman ... she _wasn't._  
  
She finally looked up at him, her dark hair matted to her face, and her clothes rumpled and soaked. She shook her head quickly, a hand pushing her bangs away from red-rimmed eyes.  
  
"O-okay, that's good," Jacob answered with a nod. "Um. Is he ... is he breathing?" he asked, his deep voice making her flinch.   
  
She stared with worry at Dean, finally realizing that she wasn't alone in the shallow puddle of water that collected on Jacob's hand. Jacob watched as she leaned over Dean, putting an ear close to his face to listen for any shallow breaths.  
  
His heart sank like he'd been the one to fall into the water when he saw the expression on her face.  
  


* * *

  
"Please ... do you know how to help him? I ... I can't do anything here."   
  
The human's voice was close to breaking, despite how deeply it rumbled in Melanie's chest. She clenched her jaw, unsure of why he was so determined to help someone so small. This guy-- Dean, he'd called him-- was smaller than the human's _fingers._  
  
Yet he cared.  
  
"I-I'll try," Melanie answered. She wasn't even sure if the human heard her, but she saw what looked like gratitude and relief on his face as he stared down at them with those big brown eyes.  
  
Melanie looked down at Dean's face again, a blush rising to her cheeks. Now, of all times, she was getting shy. She bit her lip and took a slow, shaky breath to remind herself of what she needed to do. This was no time to act like a girl with a crush, whether that described her perfectly or not.   
  
Dean had saved her, so she'd try to do the same for him.  
  
Melanie leaned over Dean, locks of sopping hair dropping down and curtaining their faces. One hand rested gently on his chest, just below his neck, while the other tilted his head slightly so she could try to revive him. She didn't remember where she'd learned about this skill, but she was so glad she had.  
  
A giddy, half-formed thought that this was close enough to a kiss crossed her mind, but Melanie shook it away. She placed her mouth over Dean's parted lips and helped him breathe.  
  
 _Please let this work._  
  
It was as though the world was as breathless as Dean while she did what she could to resuscitate him. Time stretched out, and there was no response. The limp form was motionless, the leather jacket he prized so highly as bedraggled as the rest of him, and his leather duffel bag floated listlessly in the tub below.  
  
She breathed into his mouth again, his lips ice cold from the frigid temperature that lingered after the spirit’s attack, and the time spent in the rushing water. Jacob’s hand below was their only source of warmth, his body heat enough to warm the frail body collapsed on his palm.  
  
When the hope of saving Dean’s life started to fade from a glimmer to nothing, Dean writhed. With a cough, his lungs expelled the water he’d swallowed during the tumultuous ordeal in the canyon-sized bathtub.  
  
Dean turned on his side, hacking up what felt like an entire _gallon_ of water onto Jacob’s palm. When the flow of water stopped, he collapsed onto his back all over again, staring blankly up in confusion.  
  
Was that… a _girl?_  
  
Memories of the moments before the attack started to return, and he remembered chasing the girl through the walls until the spirit had appeared and tossed them through the wall. Wiping his mouth with the back of a drenched sleeve to try and get the water off, Dean gave her an awkward smile. She was the first girl his size he’d seen in years that wasn’t Krissy or his adopted mother.  
  
Which was probably the reason his mind wouldn’t form proper sentences to introduce himself, and instead he blurted out “Was I just drowning or did you leave me breathless?”  
  
While Melanie's expression dropped into blushing, wide-eyed shock, Jacob's free hand covered his eyes in pure exasperation. A grin broke across his face, relieved and amused at the same time. After worrying he might watch Dean _die,_ right on his own hand, a cheesy pick up line was the last thing Jacob expected to hear.  
  
 _What the hell, Dean. Really, what the hell._  
  
Melanie felt a smile of her own tugging at the corners of her lips, and it felt like the heat of her blushing alone would be enough to rid her of the water that still clung to her. "Well, I, um," she stammered, relief of her own fluttering around in her chest along with feelings so rare she almost didn't recognize them.  
  
"It's ... more the opposite, really," she finally answered, pushing damp hair over her ears and resting a hand on his shoulder. "Can you sit up? Y-you hit your head pretty hard."  
  
“Uh…” Dean struggled to push himself up on his hands, feeling the painful spike in his muscles from the exertion. It felt like he’d been run over by a bus.  
  
“I’m gonna be feeling that one in the morning,” he gasped out as he managed to finally sit up, letting his arms fall limply across his legs. He coughed, trying to clear up his throat, and a gentle hand patted his back.  
  
That was when he finally realized that he was sitting in a hand, and a familiar one at that. He twisted around, staring straight up at the human that was looking at them both. He gave Jacob a wry grin. “Guess we coulda used Godzilla with us this time,” Dean tried to joke.  
  
Off to the side, Sam burst out from the hidden wallpaper entrance. The sound of the entire house coming down over his head had drawn him back, shortly after realizing Dean wasn’t with him. “What happened?!” he blurted out, his eyes wide when he saw Jacob sitting next to the tub, not one, but _two_ people sitting on his hand.  
  
Jacob whipped his gaze to the sink, finding Sam almost level with him. He sighed. He hadn't known how relieved he'd be to see Sam there, but, knowing that the younger brother wasn't trapped in another part of the house after the ghost acted up was a comfort.  
  
"I'm not really sure," he admitted, looking back down to the two on his hand.  
  
Melanie flinched at the sight of that huge face turning towards her again. She had nowhere to go from Jacob's hand, but she was glad that at least she wasn't alone. She gave Dean's shoulder one more gentle pat before reluctantly removing her hand from him, clasping it in her lap.  
  
"I was ... I ran away when Dean saw me and then, I-I don't know how, but ... we got pushed into the water." She glanced at Dean, wondering if he'd confirm or deny the appearance of the other girl if Melanie brought it up.  
  
It wasn't _possible._ It had to be stress.  
  
"Dean got knocked out trying to help me," she said instead.  
  
Dean nodded along with what she said, rubbing the back of his neck. He could feel a slight blush on his face, heating up despite the chill caused by his drenched clothes. All that was keeping him from shivering was the warmth that rose from Jacob’s skin.  
  
“I, ah, chased after her,” he admitted, meeting Sam’s eyes. He’d pretty much run off on his younger brother, after all. “When I finally caught up, there was this girl. She was a spirit… and she was _our_ size.”  
  
Sam’s eyebrows climbed his face. “ _Really?_ ” he said, fascination temporarily overriding his worry. “I didn’t know that was possible!”  
  
Dean pursed his lips, then realized, in his disorientation, he’d forgotten something important. He turned to the girl that had saved his life. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name before we took the twin dive into the depths,” he said with an easygoing smile. “I’m Dean, that’s my brother Sam,” he gestured towards the counter, where Sam squatted to see them better. “Godzilla here is Jacob. And… you?”  
  
Melanie blushed again with the attention all on her. "I'm Melanie," she answered, absently fiddling with the tattered edge of her damp sleeve. Dean's explanation weighed heavily on her. He'd said it was a _spirit._ A ghost was haunting the house, and it was her size.  
  
It shouldn't be possible, but Dean so casually explaining it combined with Sam and Jacob's easy acceptance of the story told Melanie that maybe it was. She'd nearly been _killed_ because of it.  
  
Jacob offered Melanie a smile, seeing that her face was still marred with worry. "Nice to meet you, Melanie. Glad you weren't hurt in that. It was a close one." Jacob didn't bother mentioning _how_ close it had been. If he'd been just a little slower to pull them from the water, Melanie could have passed out, too. Reviving them both in time would have been difficult even for Sam.  
  
She nodded, and then jolted as realization hit her. "Oh, m-my bag!"  
  
"I got it," Jacob said quickly before she could worry herself more. He held his hand closer to his chest while he leaned over the tub to fish out the two tiny bags floating in the now-still water. Of its own accord, Melanie's hand found Dean's wrist as they moved, not used to being held by a human.  
  
Dean’s eyes instinctively sought out Melanie’s as the world tilted around them with Jacob’s immense movements, and he put his hand over hers. “He’s a little extra big, but we’re safe here,” he reassured her with a crooked grin, squeezing her fingers carefully. Her hand was slim and nice in his grip.  
  
Jacob held out the two bags to the pair on his hand. They looked as bedraggled as their owners and, of course, soaked. Dean would probably have to dump out the sturdy leather duffel he favored. "Here we go."  
  
Dean’s movements were stiff as he took his bag back, regretfully pulling away from Melanie for the moment. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered as he saw how inundated with water it was. Water poured out of it when he tilted it to the side, flowing off of Jacob’s hand. All the supplies inside were soaked, and he’d have to replace more than one thing after that. The leather itself had survived its encounter with the rushing rapids of the tub fairly intact, though he’d have to wait and see after everything dried to know for sure.  
  
Shoving the bedraggled mess of supplies back in, Dean gave up on sorting it all out until they were out of danger. The spirit was still in the house, after all.  
  
Pulling himself up to a stand, he cracked his back with a groan. “Walls are _not_ fun to get thrown through,” Dean griped to himself. He held a hand to Melanie to help her up after she had her own supply bag settled. “You’ve lived here awhile,” he surmised. “Do you know our mystery spirit?” He could remember the absolute _anger_ in the spirit’s eyes when she’d seen Melanie standing behind Dean.  
  
Melanie almost couldn't pull herself to her feet, as her limbs were still jelly-like from her terrifying plunge into the water and from being on a human's hand. Even if Jacob was sitting there calmly and patiently, he was the biggest human Melanie had ever seen. She couldn't help but feel intimidation right in her core.  
  
Once she finally stood, her eyes strayed downwards to the surface her feet stood on. Jacob's palm had some give to it under their weight, but not much. She could feel the steady beat of his pulse through the soles of her shoes.  
  
While still looking down, she shook her head. "I mean, it looked like Penny," she admitted. "She was my friend. But she's _gone_ now, there's no way _ghosts_ are real, right?" She looked up, desperately hoping for one of them to grin and say that they were all joking. But no one did.  
  
"I-it was my dad that found her," Melanie went on, a melancholy slump in her already tired shoulders. "She must have slipped into the water and drowned before anyone knew where she was. How can ..." Melanie sought Dean's green eyes, confusion and regret shining in her own. "Is ... is _this_ why the humans have been dying too? How can she turn on the water like that? How can she even _be_ here?"  
  
Jacob and Sam might as well have not been there for all the mind Dean paid them. He felt drawn in by Melanie’s gaze, like it had a magnetic pull on his core. He rested a steadying hand on her shoulder, worried she might stumble from just the small sway of Jacob trying to hold it steady. “Well, it’s a little hard to explain. You see… sometimes when people die, their spirits don’t want to let go.”  
  
He took a deep breath, shivering slightly in the air now that he was standing away from the warmth of Jacob’s palm. His leather jacket was heavy enough that it would take longer to dry than the rest of his clothes, though his small size helped him dry faster than a human.  
  
He felt a strange desire to hold Melanie close and comfort her after everything that had happened. “When people don’t let go, they hang onto the last moments of their lives. She sounded like she died calling out for help, so she’s angry and confused. Lashing out at the people she blames for her death. The humans that live here, you and your family for not hearing her cries…”  
  
Dean trailed off for a second and gave in to his instincts, putting an arm around Melanie. “We need to find where she’s buried,” he said softly. “We need to put her to rest so she doesn’t lash out at anyone again.”  
  
Melanie stiffened at first. After living in the walls of the same house her whole life, she was, possibly, even less accustomed to social interaction than Dean. She didn't get hugged very often by tall, handsome strangers, that was for sure.  
  
She relaxed and nodded, letting him comfort her for a few seconds more before stepping back. She nearly lost her footing on Jacob's hand again, and it was lucky Dean still had a hand on her shoulder. "I ... I think I know where she is," she admitted, her gaze trailing hesitantly up to Jacob's face. He was practically frozen to the spot waiting for her answer.  
  
"Um. You, uh. You won't be able to go," she said sheepishly.  
  
Jacob got it. His eyebrows raised and he moved his hand to the sink near Sam, so Melanie and Dean could access the entrance to the walls once more. "No worries, I can wait wherever," he assured her with a smile. It wasn't lost on him that she was quick to step off his hand, preferring solid ground.  
  
"O-okay," she answered, awestruck that she was talking to a human that had just _let her go._ He hadn't even really 'caught' her in the first place. She glanced between Sam and Dean, wondering once more how they had ended up with such a confusing human. "Where'd you find him? I never thought a human would be ... well, like this," she whispered, a voice so low that it would be quiet even to the brothers.  
  
Sam had to grin at that, his gaze flashing between Melanie and Jacob before he leaned in to answer, figuring she wouldn’t want Jacob to overhear. “Jacob kinda found us. Or rather, he found Dean.”  
  
“Hey!” Dean complained as he joined them from Jacob’s hand. “You make it sound like I got myself found on purpose.”  
  
Sam sent him a withering glance. “Dean just couldn’t keep himself away from the pie Jacob brought to his motel room, and he got caught trying to get out of there. Jacob let him go, and most important for Dean, gave him pie. We’ve been with him ever since. He helped us find an old friend of ours, and is helping us track down our dad. While we try and help people out, like here.” He wasn’t sure how well she’d take it if she discovered that they’d been humans in the past, so he tried to stray away from any insinuations of their former lives.  
  
Melanie's eyes were wide, and she glanced over at Jacob a few times as she processed Sam's story. It didn't look like he'd heard any of it, but he had a curious look that suggested he was tempted to ask. Melanie didn't clear anything up for him, because she was too preoccupied with the thought of a human helping people like them so much.  
  
Helping Sam and Dean find people important to them... she supposed that, if they got separated from their family somehow, Jacob's size would come in handy. He could open doors, a task that looked simple but was impossible to people like them.  
  
"O-kay," she muttered, deciding not to question the story. If they were lying, she didn't need to know. It was better that way.  
  
"I'll show you where Penny is," she spoke up, this time loud enough for Jacob to pick up her voice too. "She's not on this floor. It's a bit of a walk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my all time fave chapters. Jacob to the rescue, Melanie to the rescue, and Dean off to a grand start with the world's cheesiest pickup line! He could use some of canon Dean's experience with the ladies here!
> 
> Sam missed a LOT.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to all you USA peeps!
> 
> Since The Water's Fine is a shorter case fic, voting for a new story has begun! Please [go here](https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/KLZ3GNB) to cast your vote!
> 
> **Last:** Coming November 27 th, 2016
> 
> Comments and reviews are love!


	6. Bittersweet Parting

Melanie led them through the walls, following a path that Sam and Dean would take a long time to figure out on their own. The walls of the house formed a maze. Back at their old motel, Sam had gone far enough to sketch himself out a small map to use when he’d first started to accompany his big brother to the rooms to find supplies. It helped him keep from getting lost if he was ever separated from Dean, who’d already learned his way around by then.  
  
The motel had been laid out in more of a grid pattern than the house they were in. The rooms were all different sizes, and they crossed over what must have been an addition to the house at one point. The woodwork was newer.  
  
Dean hovered closer to Melanie, and Sam let himself fall behind a bit to give them privacy. Back at the motel, Krissy had always spent more time with Sam, even though he’d never really reciprocated her feelings. There had been no one close to Dean’s age, and now Sam had to hide a smile as the other two went around a corner. Dean’s hand brushed against Melanie’s side.  
  
They finally arrived in a more open area, underneath what Melanie told them was the kitchen. “Is this where you keep all your dead?” Sam asked curiously, wondering more about the people they’d lived among for years now. There were secrets that neither brother had ever cracked.  
  
Melanie shrugged slowly. "I guess so?" she answered, her voice conveying her uncertainty as much as her expression did. "I've only ever known one person that died before." Other than the humans, of course, and they certainly didn't count. Melanie knew their names and their habits, and she had observed from the shadows who was most distraught each time. But the only drowning death that personally affected her was her friend.  
  
Her friend who, according to Dean, couldn't let go of the terrifying death she'd experienced, and was stuck. She didn't deserve any of it. After seeing the apparition of her friend, seeing the anger and betrayal in those eyes, Melanie felt some guilt weighing on her shoulders.  
  
Looking around, she continued, "Down here there's enough dirt and debris from when the house was built and the humans don't really come looking. We couldn't risk going outside." Melanie spotted what she was looking for and led Dean and Sam to a much more organized pile of dust, bits of drywall, even broken pieces of plastic, all meant to cover the drowned body of Penny while it decomposed, to avoid attracting rats.  
  
"This is where we buried her," Melanie said quietly. "I think we're just under the fridge." The observation was out of place, perhaps, but Melanie, coming back here when she was certain she'd have no reason, suddenly felt the stress of the night catching up to her.  
  
She stood near Dean, letting her arm brush against his when she hugged herself uneasily. "What do you need to do to, um, put her to rest?"  
  
Dean considered the pile of dirt and debris. “We need to salt her body and burn the remains.” He winced internally, knowing exactly how bad that would sound to someone that had no experience in their line of work. “That will cut her ties and let her move on.”  
  
Sam came over, two hunks of wood in his hands. “Don’t worry, Melanie. She’ll be happier after this is all over.”  
  
He handed one off to Dean. They started to push the dirt off of the pile, using the scrap wood as substitutes for shovels. It was slow going, but it worked.  
  
Dean grunted as he lifted a larger pile of dirt off with his. “Sam, you still got some salt?” he asked as he remembered having it in his hands during the attack. There was no way it survived his plunge into the watery depths of the deep tub intact. The scrap of fabric was floating in the tub that very moment, and the salt had long since dissolved.  
  
Sam nodded. “I’ve got it all,” he said.  
  
He really was having a much less exciting case compared to Dean.  
  
Melanie watched in a daze as they worked. Somehow, hearing what they planned with the remains didn't surprise her as much as she knew it should. She couldn't even bring herself to help move anything out of the way.  
  
When the cloth-covered shape of her friend became visible again, Melanie pursed her lips. She'd already come to terms with Penny's death. It didn't help to dwell on it. But being there again, and knowing that Penny's ... _spirit_ had just tried to _kill_ her, a small needle of grief made it through Melanie's defenses.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said aloud, the words spilling out of her. "I ... I can't watch." Her shoes were already shuffling in the dust as she backed off. "I'll be over here." With that hasty explanation, Melanie turned to walk several steps away, escaping the scene before it overwhelmed her completely. She crossed her arms and her shoulders bunched up while she tried to cope with what she'd seen.  
  
Dean finished shifting the last of the dirt off, and he exchanged a look with Sam as Melanie left them.  
  
“Just give me a hand with the match,” Sam muttered, glancing around to make sure there was nothing flammable within range. He judged the distance of the wooden ceiling above their heads and nodded to himself.  
  
Sam dropped his satchel on the ground, pulling out the book of matches he’d placed inside earlier that day. Along with the salt, he and Dean had both prepared themselves for anything, just in case. There was no way to know if anything would ever happen to Jacob, and they needed a way to finish up the case on their own if it came down to it.  
  
He quickly sprinkled salt over the covered body, then Dean held the book while Sam lit up the match.  
  
And then it was done.  
  
The match, the length of a baton with a flame almost as long as Sam’s arm bursting out of it, fell on the corpse, lighting up the dead body. He stood over it, watching to make sure the flame didn’t spread past the shallow divot in the earth that had become her grave.  
  
Dean came over to Melanie, carefully placing his hands on her slim shoulders and squeezing. “It’ll all be over soon,” he said softly.  
  
Melanie still had her back to the fire, but she could see the shadows flickering orange ahead of her. It was really happening. She'd led a couple strangers to her friend's body, in the hopes that she'd be at peace after a lonely, terrifying death. Despite it all sounding completely insane, she was hopeful that it was the right thing to do.  
  
"It's a lot to take in," she admitted, one of her hands tentatively finding Dean's, an anchor in a weird situation. She had been scared at first of the very thought of him getting close enough to put a hand on her. And then, Dean had tried to keep her safe without even knowing who she _was._ "I guess I am glad I didn't have to find all this stuff out alone, so..." she finally looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze with a faint but grateful smile. "Thanks."  
  
Dean gave her a smile back. _That_ was why he’d always wanted to be a hunter. They’d helped out a girl who might be dead now without them. “I’m glad we got here in time.”  
  
The flicker of the flames consumed the wrapped corpse while Sam watched over it. He sent a curious glance their way from time to time, but didn’t interrupt the soft words spoken between them. Soon the fire started to die down and he began to kick dirt on the remaining embers, scuffing them out with his boots. They couldn’t risk even the smallest flame surviving when they left. If the house went up in smoke, it would take out anyone living in it. They were too small to escape in time.  
  
He shifted the displaced dirt back over the hole, then returned to Dean and Melanie. “We should get back to Jacob and let him know we took care of it,” Sam murmured, feeling guilty that he had to interrupt. They wouldn’t get much time together, and he’d seen the look on Dean’s face. Like a man in the desert that had discovered an oasis all for himself.  
  
Melanie couldn't help but glance past Sam. There was nothing left of the body but a pile of ashes, as well as the objects used to cover it strewn nearby. She took a slow breath, releasing it in a relieved sigh. If they were right, her friend would be at peace now.  
  
"Thanks, Sam," she replied, a more confident set in her shoulders after everything. She had long since dried from falling into the water, though her appearance still held evidence of the near disaster. Her hair and clothes were rumpled.  
  
"I definitely heard the hu-- Jacob's footsteps going down the stairs, so I'll bring you to an entrance on this floor," she told them, still lingering close to Dean.  
  
The walk was quiet, but a little less somber than the trek to find Penny. Knowing she had moved on, Melanie allowed herself to feel closure. No one else would get hurt now. Humans would come back to the house and things could return to normal.  
  
After emerging from a loose panel of the baseboard in the living room, they found Jacob in the front hall, lingering near a bookshelf just in case someone looked in the window. Melanie gasped involuntarily at the _size_ of him. From the floor, he was formidable indeed.  
  
And then he _noticed_ them. Melanie had been reassured multiple times of his trustworthiness, and he'd shown it himself when he pulled her from the water and didn't try to harm her. But those eyes fixing on them as they walked along the wall to meet up with him sent a bolt of instinctive fear through her gut. Her hand twitched and brushed against Dean's before she got ahold of herself.  
  
Jacob moved slowly, kneeling down on the ground and failing once again in his attempts to look a little less daunting. He scanned over the three of them, lingering for only an instant on the way Melanie stood noticeably closer to Dean. "How'd it go?" he asked, raising his eyebrows curiously.  
  
Jacob wasn’t the only one that had seen how close Dean and Melanie were standing, since they’d been close the entire time inside of the walls. “It went good,” Sam said, stepping closer to Jacob. “The body’s been taken care of, and she’s at rest now.” He tried to hide any nervousness he felt, standing at the human’s feet. Even kneeling down Jacob towered over them, and it was only the trust they’d built up with him that kept the Winchesters from growing as skittish as Melanie.  
  
Sam glanced behind himself to meet Melanie’s eyes. “There will be a few more days of investigation by the police,” he warned her, “before anyone comes back.” He understood as well as anyone how hard it could be if there was no food to slip away with. “We could help out with getting enough food to last for everyone. It’s the least we can do.” He wouldn't ask for food for himself, but he had no problem offering it to others in need.  
  
Melanie's eyes widened and she glanced up at Jacob again. He didn't make any move to deny Sam's offer, instead offering her a brief smile of encouragement. "You'd really ...?" she asked, incredulous. It was one thing for him to help out Sam and Dean, but Melanie was a stranger. They'd already done so much for her.  
  
Jacob nodded and his smile grew. "Sure thing, Melanie," he answered, keeping his voice down even more than he did with Sam and Dean. It was a good choice; Melanie flinched a little even then. She'd picked Dean as an anchor, and even from his higher vantage point, Jacob could see that Dean had taken to the job. An idea came to him.  
  
"I can head out right now, even, to see if anywhere's open," he continued, lowering a hand to the floor tentatively. "Sam, d'you wanna be my lookout again? Just in case anyone noticed the excitement earlier."  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Sam said with a smile. He took a step forward, then had to push Dean back from following him. He met the uncertain green eyes. Once again, they’d be separated, but Sam knew they’d both be fine. “How about you make sure everything is calm in the house while we go out? We can’t just leave Melanie on her own, right?”  
  
“R-right,” Dean said. He stepped closer to her, his hand brushing against hers again. “I guess we’ll see you around, then? Make sure to only get the best.” He managed a wink at Sam even in his uncertainty.  
  
Sam got on Jacob’s hand, planting his boots so he wouldn’t lose balance when it started moving. He gestured for the teen to lift it up. “We won’t let you down. Oh, and Dean?” He pulled out the rest of his salt, tossing the pouch to his older brother. “Just in case.”  
  
Dean gave a jaunty salute with the salt, his trademark smirk back full force.  
  
Jacob grinned back before lifting Sam carefully in his hand. Melanie watched with a certain awe on her face, and he thought he could guess why. She'd grown up thinking someone like him should be avoided, but Sam had willingly stepped onto his hand and offered immense trust in him without hesitation.  
  
_It surprises me, too, trust me,_ he almost told her.  
  
Instead he simply said "Okay, we'll be back in a while." It served as a warning before he stood up, and even that action he took slowly. It felt so strange to leave Dean behind on the floor like that; he rarely saw the brothers all the way on the ground from this close.  
  
When Jacob took a careful step to the side to make his way around them, Melanie couldn't help but watch his boot with intent focus. Her breath caught in her throat and she flinched with each step the human took as it shook through her and Dean.  
  
Jacob made his way towards the back door where he'd broken in, the floor shaking under them with every step, and Melanie turned her awed gaze up to Dean instead. "I guess ... so we're not in the open ... we could go and wait in my home until they come back." She finished off the words with a shy half-smile while her hand snuck its way into his.  
  
Dean brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, smiling gently. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”  


* * *

  
Jacob and Sam didn't make it back until the next morning. The sky was already colored on one horizon with the sunrise, so he was extra glad for Sam's lookout skills. He'd be easier to spot than ever, and he moved even more carefully as he crept up to the house once more.  
  
He closed the door with a sigh, glad they'd made it without Sam once barking a warning at him. No one expected movement near the house, so hopefully it meant no one ever had a reason to look.  
  
Jacob wandered through the kitchen, glancing around before pausing in the hall, a plastic bag of food and supplies hanging from his hand. "Any guesses on the best place to put this stuff?" he asked, unsure of how well Sam might have learned the internals of the house the night before.  
  
Sam had a hand on the folds of Jacob's dark hoodie, keeping an eye on the ground below as those huge boots moved. “The entrance in the living room,” he surmised. “It’s easier to have homes on the bottom floor, closer to the kitchen if needed. And Melanie can tell us if we should put it anywhere else. I’m sure she already knows you’re back.”  
  
That was putting it mildly. A human Jacob’s size could be tracked from almost anywhere in the house, both from the noise he made while walking and from the way the floorboards would shake under his immense weight.  
  
When they reached the living room, Sam gestured towards the hidden entrance. “There.” It gave him a good feeling inside that they’d be able to help others his size survive after all the years his family had scraped by. Jacob had taken to the idea just as fast as the brothers.  
  
Jacob nodded and knelt by the entrance that Sam pointed out. He couldn't really tell where it was, and he only had a vague idea thanks to being told it was there. His knees shook the floor when he settled down and set the bag in front of him.  


* * *

  
In the walls, Melanie and Dean made their way to the same entrance. Melanie hadn't told her family about her involvement with the three strangers. She had a feeling that, upon hearing the human return, they'd hidden away in their home again to wait for him to leave. She'd have quite a task explaining things to them, and she still wasn't sure she'd be able to come clean about everything.  
  
Melanie heard the rustle of a plastic bag through the walls as they approached the entrance. "I can't believe he actually went and got stuff," she admitted, pausing at the door. "You guys are really something else, you know that?"  
  
Dean brushed her hair back, letting the soft strands fall between his fingers. “Just the way we like it,” he said. He let his hand trail down her cheek and cup under her chin. It was one of the few times he’d been around a person smaller than himself, and it felt good to have her warm eyes stare up at him.  
  
Gently tilting her head up, Dean gave her a lingering kiss for before they slipped back out into the open. Their eyes met as they pulled apart. He gave a confident smile. “Jacob might look like any other human, but he’s a softie at heart.”  
  
Dean let his hand drop from her chin and stepped back. The entrance was simple to push aside, revealing Jacob crouched down on the outside. His eyes flashed up to Jacob’s shoulder, and he grinned even broader to see Sam up there, waving down at them. “Keepin’ Godzilla outta trouble?” Dean called up as he held open the entrance for Melanie to follow.  
  
“Same thing I do whenever I’m with _you!_ ” Sam shot back down at him, taking advantage of being out of reach.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes, and took Melanie’s hand in his again. “You’re gonna take care of yourself, now, right?” he asked seriously.  
  
Melanie smiled before looking past him at the supplies and food that Jacob busied himself taking out of the bag. Sam must have given him advice on what to bring; Melanie couldn't imagine a human just _knowing_ what was most useful for people their size. It almost brought tears to her eyes to see so much after stretching everything so thin in recent weeks.  
  
"Well I _suppose_ I'll find something to do with all of this," she answered with a grin. Her family would have to excuse her associating with a human and the strange smaller folk that rode on his shoulders. There was enough there for _months._  
  
"You ... you'll have to do the same," she added in a quieter tone, giving Dean's hand a squeeze. She had no idea how far their mission to find their dad would take them, but if it put them up against ghosts, they'd need to be ready.  
  
Dean gave her a confident grin as he stepped away. “C’mon, Sammy! Get your ass down here and help me move this food into the walls!”  
  
Sam climbed his way down Jacob’s outstretched arm, giving Dean a flat stare. “It’s _Sam._ ”  
  
For all the notice Dean gave him, he might as well not have said anything.  
  
The two brothers moved swiftly to get the food into the walls. Melanie helped with the entrance as Jacob shifted it all as close as he could without being able to put it in. He got teased for his hands being too big to fit into the walls, leaving him only able to help them so far.  
  
Regardless of Jacob’s own shortcomings, the food disappeared into the walls. Once it was out of sight, it wouldn’t be seen again by any humans. Melanie’s family would be able to survive off of it, and hopefully save enough for any other hard times that might loom in the future. Life hidden away from everyone was harsh, but they’d survive, one way or the other.  
  
While Sam climbed his way back up Jacob’s arm, Dean paused and pulled Melanie into one last hug. He held her against his chest. “If we ever pass by this way, maybe I’ll have Jacob drop me off in the area,” he said with a wink. “I can check up and make sure you didn’t get into any trouble.”  
  
Melanie's smile was shy again and there was some pink in her cheeks. "I'd like that," she told him, her fingers curling slowly around the lapel of his leather jacket. She had to push herself up on her tiptoes to claim one more kiss before he had to leave.

[Dean and Mel, by mythical-cupcake](http://mythical-cupcake.tumblr.com/)  
  
Jacob, for his part, focused on Sam's climb up his arm. If he really paid attention, he could feel the tiny tugs on the fabric as Sam's hands grasped the folds to hoist himself up to his perch. Jacob kept himself still to make sure he didn't upset the precarious climb, though he knew Sam was skilled enough to make it easily.  
  
After Sam was in place, Jacob watched the curtained living room window, noting that the sky was lightening by the second. They'd need to leave soon, but for the moment, he gave Dean and Melanie time for their goodbye.  
  
Sam joined Jacob in watching the curtains as he settled into his perch, giving Dean his privacy. It was hard to find a comfortable position on a shoulder, or at least he was using that as his excuse for fidgeting while they waited.  
  
The small pair on the floor drew out their last kiss, enjoying one final embrace. Melanie’s slight form fit into Dean’s arms perfectly, filling in the emptiness in his center that had been there for a decade. He pulled away from her slightly so he could drink in her beauty one last time, brushing a thumb that was callused from years of climbing over her bottom lip.  
  
“See you around, sweetheart,” he said softly as he straightened. It put him out of easy reach for her, his own natural height showing up for one of the first times in years.  
  
She nodded and stepped back herself, taking in the details of his face and storing them in memory. After lingering on his green eyes and ensuring she wouldn't forget the hue, she broke eye contact at last to look up at Jacob and Sam. She was still shy when she spoke loudly enough for them to hear. "Sam, Jacob," she called, managing to suppress her flinch when Jacob focused on her again. "Thank you." She wasn't sure how else she'd ever be able to thank them enough. The words would have to do.  
  
"Anytime," Jacob answered, lowering his hand for Dean. They'd need to make an exit soon, before Jacob got spotted prowling around the neighborhood. "Stay safe. Dean, ready to get going?"  
  
Dean was quiet as he stepped up onto Jacob’s hand, motioning that he was ready to go. As it lifted away from the ground, he watched Melanie dwindle into the distance, amazed at how far away she was already. He could still feel the smooth sheen of her face against his fingers, her warmth against his lips…  
  
Memories to hold onto even as he stepped onto Jacob’s shoulder opposite Sam.  
  
One hand latched onto the fabric of the hoodie, the fingers twining reflexively into the threads. His other hand lifted up and gave Melanie a wave, his crooked grin subdued.  
  
Sam was the one to break the silence. “We better head out before someone starts wondering about the Impala.”  
  
Dean blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah…” he said.  
  
“We’ve got work to do.”  
  
**FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hero gets the girl, monster gets the gank.
> 
> Need there be more?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the art for the chapter! It was made by the wonderful [mythical-cupcake](http://mythical-cupcake.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr, and if you want to see the full-body image, be sure to tune into the [Brothers Apart](http://brothersapart.tumblr.com/) tumblr, it'll be posted tomorrow!
> 
> Brothers Apart won the poll, so starting on November 29th, you'll begin to see Like a Moth to Flame posting!


	7. Epilogue 1: Waking Up Tired

Where we left off with [Brothers Lost](https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fseries%2F464857&t=MWMwMTc5MTBhNzJlODIxMzU5NWEyMjY5ZmI4YmU4Njg0ODZiYTUwYyxpVVJpb2M5Rg%3D%3D&b=t%3A9de0--g46AxzVTF_yZIU3Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fbrothersapart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F155252642353%2Fwaking-up-tired&m=1), Sam, Dean, and Jacob left behind a house once haunted by the littlest ghost ever. Here’s a little update on what’s going on with Dean’s favorite resident of the walls in that house, a special treat to start the new year off right!

* * *

Melanie awoke to a shuffling in her home. She blinked her eyes slowly, staring around in brief confusion while her mind took its time waking up. There was some weak light filtering in, courtesy of a strategically placed seam in the wallpaper of the humans’ “guest room”. It illuminated the tidy little house she kept.

It took her a moment to register that someone else was in the house with her. Their back was turned as they brushed dust off of a doll’s vanity chest that she kept to one side of her home.

She sat up sluggishly in her bed so she could better see out of its alcove. The curtain separating it from the main room of the house was drawn aside, and she could swear it hadn’t been when she went to sleep. “Mom, what are you doing over here?” she croaked, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes and yawn.

Her mother turned to offer a bemused grin. “Sweetie, you were going to come and visit us today. Did you oversleep?” She made her way over to stand at the end of the bed.

Melanie yawned again and patted her hair ruefully. “I’ve been tired all week,” she admitted.

Her mother clucked her tongue. “What, haven’t you been eating enough since you sent a human to go get a bunch of food?” she teased.

Melanie wrinkled her nose and shot her mother a mock sour face. “I didn’t  _send_  a human anywhere. He volunteered,” she said, the same old story she always used when the subject came up.

Jacob, an absolutely massive human, had indeed volunteered to bring food and supplies to the house. The resident humans had been gone for too long, and his kindness not only saved Melanie and her family from a few hard days, he’d stocked them up to last well after their humans returned the next week. They’d probably be set for  _months,_  if not a year, on all the things he brought back.

She could hardly believe it all herself, but there was at least one human out there who was sympathetic to little folk like them.

Somehow, he’d ended up traveling with two people that fit on his hand. Brothers, on a mission to help people from all kinds of unexplainable things while they sought their dad. Melanie never was sure how exactly they planned to find him, and she never thought to ask.

No, while Sam, the younger brother, left to get supplies with Jacob the human, Melanie had her mind on other things. Dean, a handsome drifter, had caught her attention quickly and held it when they arrived at the house. His stay was brief, but she had her memories.

“Oh my God, Mel,” her mother said with a laugh, breaking Melanie out of her thoughts. “You really are worn out. You’re about to drift off just sitting there, are you sure you want to come today? Papa will understand if you want to rest.”

Melanie shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine,” she said, waving her hand. “Just a slow start.”

After kicking her blankets out of the way, Melanie scooted to the end of her bed. It was just like any other day, right until she tried to stand. A dizzy wave crashed over her and she faltered.

When it passed, she found her mother had caught her, and now had firm hands on her arms to keep her standing. “Goodness, Mel, are you sure you’ve been eating enough? We have so much from that human, you really can have more!”

Melanie huffed and turned away from her mother to wander to her vanity. The small mirror hooked into it was tarnished on the corner, but it worked well for her otherwise. She combed her fingers through her bedraggled hair to smooth out the pin-straight locks. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “But … have you guys been to raid the fruit bowl for one of those mini oranges the humans always get?”

Her mother fell silent, long enough for Melanie to look over her shoulder with her own bemused look. She found her mother looking her over critically, and turned to face her. “Mom?”

Her mother suddenly grinned widely. “Oh,  _Melanie,_ ” she said, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I think I know why you’re tired.” After that, she went to a deep plastic lid that Melanie used to hold her shirts and dresses. Rummaging through it, she picked out something for Melanie to put on, that smile still lighting up her face. “We should get back to see your papa and send him to get you an orange.”

Melanie didn’t take the long tunic her mother held out to her. Instead, she fixed her with a confused frown. “Uh. Mom? What’re you smiling about?”

The tunic was shoved into her hands anyway. “You’re  _tired,_  sweetie. Tired for a week, you said.”

“Yes, I am, but it’s not because I’m  _starving,_ ” she countered, drifting towards her bedroom alcove to change in spite of her confusion. Her mother waited, practically bouncing on her feet in the excitement.

“Melanie, sweetie. This is … when I was pregnant with  _you,_  do you know what was the first food on my mind every day?”

Melanie stopped with only one arm in a sleeve. She glanced down at herself, and then leaned out of the alcove to stare at her mother in shock. “What?”

“Oranges, Mel. And I was tired as all get out, some mornings your father practically had to yell to get me to wake up. How long ago was that handsome man of yours here?” her mother said, giving her a wink.

Melanie blushed and ducked back into her alcove to hastily finish changing. “A … um. A few weeks,” she answered. Her mother chuckled knowingly again, and left her with the conclusion nagging at her head.

Then, as the situation sank in, Melanie sat with a huff on her bed. Her cheeks practically blushed fire. “Oh. Oh, mom,” she said, her hands covering her face sheepishly. There was a smile hiding there.

“I’m … I’m gonna have a  _baby_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to bring these short stories over to the main story sites to keep them all together so everyone knows what's going on in the Lost universe!
> 
> This was solely written by @PL1 and it's with her permission that I post it on my website, in order to keep these stories together.


	8. Epilogue 2: Restless

The first time the baby kicked, it was a happy announcement. Melanie’s mother had fussed about it for the whole day afterward, and her father kept smirking to himself when he thought no one was looking. He might pretend to be stoic, but he was just as excited for the new baby as they all were.

More kicks came after that. Melanie could feel her baby getting used to its own little legs. If her mother had a hand on her belly at the right time, she felt it, too.

 _It’s a feisty little one,_  she’d say.  _You’ll have to keep your eyes on it._

They had no idea if the baby would be a boy or a girl. All Melanie knew for certain was that it kicked more and more every day. Sometimes the lurching feeling came right in the middle of the night.

One of those nights, she lay awake in her bed alcove, staring at the ceiling above and slowly rubbing a hand over the ever-growing bump. The baby fidgeted within her.

“I know you’re ready to come out now,” she muttered. “But you need a little more time. Just a bit. I can’t wait to meet you.”

There was a pause. Things settled. Melanie’s eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion creeping in.

Another kick. She drew in a surprised breath and opened her eyes again. The child couldn’t know what time it was, how tired she was. It was restless.

“I think you get  _that_ from your dad,” she mumbled. “I don’t think he’d be the type to sit around much, either.”

She shifted around, seeking a comfortable position that might put the kid to sleep. She had a feeling that carrying this child now was nothing to what was to come. Once it arrived, there’d be no stopping it.

She couldn’t be more pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to bring these short stories over to the main story sites to keep them all together so everyone knows what's going on in the Lost universe!
> 
> There might be more of these in the future if everyone is interested, so be sure to tell PL1 how you like it!
> 
>  
> 
> This was solely written by @PL1 and it's with her permission that I post it on my website, in order to keep these stories together.

**Author's Note:**

> And we return to the trio of hunters, off on the road to their first case! 
> 
> First things first, Jacob the teddy's gonna learn how to fight, or well, at least watch how to fight. Sam and Dean can't exactly demonstrate on him, so they make due.
> 
> Leave a comment if you're enjoying! It means more to us than you know
> 
>  **Next:** Coming November 17 th, 2016


End file.
